i 




IP 



WORKS 

OF 

ORVILLE DEWEY, D.D. 



DISCOURSES AO REVIEWS 



UPON QUESTIONS 



CONTROVERSIAL THEOLOGY 



PRACTICAL RELIGION 



B Y 

ORYILLE DEWE Y, D.D. 

PA6TOR OF THE CHURCH OF THE ME3SIA.H IN NEW-YORK. 



NEW-YORK: 
C. S. FRANCIS & CO. 252 BROADWAY 

boston: 
j. h. francis, 123 washington street. 

1 8 4 6. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846, 
BY C. S. FRANCIS & CO. 
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court for the Southern District of New York. 



PRINTED BY 
MUNROE AND FRANCIS, 
BOSTON. 



PREFACE. 



The Volume, here offered to the public, is designed 
to give a comprehensive reply to the question, What is 
Unitarianism ? Many persons feel the want of some- 
thing of this nature ; something beyond the brief com- 
pass of a Tract, and within the limits of a Volume, 
which they could give or point out, to those who are 
asking, " What are your general views of religion ? 
What are your views of the Scriptures, of faith in 
them, and of the doctrines and principles which they 
teach ?" Such inquirers are often not sufficiently 
interested to gather the information they seek, from 
scattered tracts, or to hunt for it through twenty 
volumes ; nor, if they were, is it likely that the tracts 
or volumes would be within their reach. The present 
volume will perhaps satisfy the questions, that are 
already in their minds ; and if it raises questions 
which it does not settle, they must be referred to other 
sources. In particular, reference may be made, on 
the Trinity, to Norton's Statement of Reasons : on the 
Offices of Christ, to Ware's Discourses ; on the general 
subject, to Sparks's Inquiry, Yates's Vindication, Pea- 
body's and Burnap's Lectures, and the Works of Chan- 
ning ; and for our practical views of religion, to the 
Discourses of Freeman, Buckminster, Thatcher, Abbot, 
Parker, Cappe and Channing, besides those of many 
living writers. 
1* 



vi 



PREFACE. 



One word further the Author may be permitted to 
say of the manner in Avhich this volume is made up. 
It consists partly of discourses not before published, 
and partly of reprints of former publications. Of the 
latter kind are chiefly two series of papers, entitled 
" Cursory Observations on the Questions at issue be- 
tween Orthodox and Liberal Christians ;" and " The 
Analogy of Religion with other subjects." 

In short, the Author's purpose, in this volume, has 
been, in the first place, to offer a very brief summary 
of the Unitarian Belief ; in the next place, to lay down 
the essential principles of all religious faith ; thirdly, 
to state and defend our construction, as it is generally 
held among us, of the Christian doctrines ; fourthly, 
to illustrate, by analogy, our views of practical reli- 
gion ; and finally, to present, somewhat at large, the 
general views entertained among us, of the Scriptures ; 
of the grounds of belief in them ; of the nature of their 
Inspiration ; of the New Testament doctrine of Justi- 
fication by Faith ; and of the just Principles of Rea- 
soning in religious inquiry. Under the last head, 
several Reviews from the Christian Examiner are 
introduced into the present edition, and two Discourses 
not before printed. In the last of them, bearing the 
title " That Errors in Theology have sprung from 
False Principles of Reasoning," the Author has at- 
tempted to show, as far as was compatible with the 
nature and limits of a popular Discourse, that the pre- 
vailing Theology is at war with the true inductive 
philosophy. 

"With this brief statement, the volume is submitted 
to the Reader. 

New-York, June, 1846. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

The Unitarian Belief, 3 

On the Nature of Religious Belief; with infer- 
ences concerning Doubt, Decision, Confidence, 
and the trial of faith, - - - -27 

Cursory Observations on the Questions at issue 
between Orthodox and Liberal Christians. 

I. On the Trinity, - 57 

II. On the Atonement, 72 

III. On the Five Points of Calvinism, - - 90 

IV. On Future Punishment, ..... 105 
V. Conclusion. The modes of Attack upon Liberal Christianity, 

the same that were used against the doctrine of the Apostles 

and Reformers, .... 118 

Discourses and Reviews. 

The Analogy of Religion with other subjects 
considered. 

I. The Analogy of Religion, - ... - 137 
II. On Conversion, ...... 154 

III. On the method of obtaining and exhibiting Religious and Vir- 

tuous Affections, ...... 170 

IV. Causes of Indifference and Aversion to Religion, - 183 

On the Original use of the Epistles of the New 
Testament compared with their Use and appli- 
cation AT THE PRESENT DAY, - 200 

On Miracles, 232 

The Scriptures considered as the Record of a 

Revelation, - 259 

On the Nature and Extent of Inspiration, 276 

On Faith, and Justification by Faith, - 318 
That Errors in Theology have sprung from False 

Principles of Reasoning, - 333 

On the Calvinistic Views of Moral Philosophy, 365 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



We shall undertake to state in this article what we 
understand to be the prevailing belief of Unitarian 
Christians. Our position as a religious body seems 
still to require statements of this nature. It is a posi- 
tion, that is to say, entirely misunderstood. Miscon- 
structions, once in vogue, seem to have a strange 
power of perpetuating themselves ; or, at any rate, 
they are helped on by powers that seem to us very 
strange. In the face of a thousand denials, and in 
spite of the self-contradicting absurdity of the charge, 
it is still said, and, by multitudes, seems to be thought, 
that our creed consists of negations ; that we believe 
in almost nothing. It seems to be received as if it 
were a matter of common consent, that we do not 
hold to the doctrines of the Bible, and that we scarce- 
ly pretend to hold -to the Bible itself. It is apparently 
supposed by many, that we stand upon peculiar ground 
in this respect ; that we hold some strange position in 
the Christian world, different from all other Christian 
denominations. 

We must, therefore, if our patience fail not, explain 
ourselves again and again. We must, again and 
again, implore others to make distinctions very obvi- 
ous indeed, but which they are strangely slow to see ; 
to distinguish, that is to say, or at least to remember 
that ice distinguish, between the Bible and fallible 
interpretations, between Scripture doctrines and the 



4 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



explanation of those doctrines. The former we re- 
ceive ; the latter only do we reject. 

Our position in the Christian world is not a singular 
one. We profess to stand upon the same ground as all 
other Christians, the Bible. Our position, considered 
as dissent ; our position, as assailed on all sides, is by 
no means a novel one. The Protestants were, and 
are, charged by the Romish Church with rejecting 
Christianity. Every sect in succession that has broken 
off from the body of Christians, the Lutherans and 
English Episcopalians first, then the Scotch Presbyte- 
rians, then the Baptists, the Methodists, the Quakers, 
the Puritans, the Independents of every name, have 
been obliged to reply to the same charge of holding no 
valid nor authorized belief. And what has been the 
answer of them all ? It has been the answer of Paul 
before Felix ; that they did believe ; that they " be- 
lieved all things that are written n in the holy volume. 

This same defence, namely, Paul's defence to the 
Jews, Luther's and Wickliffe's to the Romish Church ; 
the defence of Knox, of Robinson, of Fox, of Wesley, 
and Whitfield, and of our own Mayhew and Mathers 
to the English Church ; this same defence, it has fallen 
to our lot to plead as Unitarian Christians. We bear 
a new name ; but we take an old stand ; a stand old 
as Christianity. We bear a new name, but we make 
an old defence ; we think as every other class of Chris- 
tians have thought, that we approach the nearest to 
the old primitive Christianity. We bear a hard name, 
the name of heretics ; but it is the very name which 
Episcopalians, Presbyterians, Arminians, Calvinists, 
have once borne ; which all Protestant Orthodoxy has 
once borne ; which Paul himself bore, when he said, 
"After the way which they call heresy, so worship I 
the God of my fathers." We bear a new name ; and 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



5 



a new name draws suspicion upon it, as every Chris- 
tian sect has had occasion full well to know ; and we 
think, therefore, that our position and our plea demand 
some consideration and sympathy from the body of 
Christians. We think that they ought to listen to us, 
when Ave make the plea, once their own, that Ave be- 
lieve, according- to our honest understanding- of their 
claim upon our faith, all things that are written in the 
Holy Scriptures. 

There is one circumstance which makes the state- 
ment of this defence peculiarly pertinent and proper 
for us. And that is, the delicacy Avhich has been felt 
by our writers and preachers about the use of terms. 
When Ave found, for instance, that the phrase, " Fa- 
ther, Son, and Holy Ghost," and that the Avoids, atone- 
ment^ regeneration, election, A\ 7 ith some others, Avere 
appropriated by the popular creeds, and stood in pre- 
vailing usage, for orthodox doctrines, Ave hesitated 
about the free use of them. It Avas not because Ave 
hesitated about the meaning which Scripture gave to 
them, but about the meaning Avhich common usage 
had fixed upon them. We believed in the things 
themselves ; Ave believed in the Avords as they stood in 
the Bible ; but not as they stood in other books. But 
finding that, whenever Ave used these terms, Ave were 
charged, as even our great Master himself Avas, AA T ith 
"deceiving the people," and not anxious to dispute 
about Avoids, we gave up the familiar use of a portion 
of the Scriptural phraseology. Whether Ave ought, in 
justice to ourselves, so to have done, is not noAv the 
question. We did so ; and the consequence has been, 
that the body of the people, not often hearing from our 
pulpits the contested Avoids and phrases ; not often 
hearing the words, 'propitiation, sacrifice, the natural 
man,. the new birth, and the Spirit of God, hold them-. 
2* 



6 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



selves doubly Avarranted in charging us with a defec- 
tion from the faith of Scripture. It is this state of 
things, which makes it especially pertinent and proper 
for us, as we have said, distinctly to declare not only 
our belief in the Scriptures generally, but our belief in 
what the Scriptures teach on the points in controver- 
sy ; our belief, we repeat, in what the Scriptures mean 
by the phrase, " Father, Son, and Holy Ghost," and by 
the words, atonement, conversion, election, and others 
that stand for disputed doctrines. 

To some statements of this nature, then, we now 
invite attention ; only premising further, that it is no 
part of our purpose, within the brief limits of this ex- 
position, to set forth anything of that abundant argu- 
ment for our views of Christianity, which so powerfully 
convinces us that they are true. Our object at present 
is limited to statement and explanation. We would 
present the Unitarian creed, according to our own un- 
derstanding of it. 

With this object in view, we say, in general, that 
we believe in the Scriptures. 

On a point which is so plain, and ought to be so 
well understood as this, it is unnecessary to dwell, 
unless it be for the purpose of discrimination. If any 
one thinks it necessary to a reception of the Bible as a 
revelation from God, that the inspired penmen should 
have written by immediate dictation ; if he thinks that 
the writers were mere amanuenses, and that word 
after word was put down by instant suggestion from 
above ; that the very style is divine and not human ; 
that the style, we say, and the matters of style, the 
figures, the metaphors, the illustrations, came from 
the Divine mind, and not from human minds ; we 
say, at once and plainly, that we do not regard the 
Scriptures as setting forth any claims to such super- 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



7 



natural perfection or accuracy of style. It is not a 
kind of distinction, that would add anything to the 
authority, much less to the dignity, of a communication 
from heaven. Nay, it would detract from its power, 
to deprive it, by any hypothesis, of those touches of 
nature, of that natural pathos, simplicity and imagin- 
ation, and of that solemn grandeur of thought disre- 
garding style, of which the Bible is full. Enough is it 
for us, that the matter is divine, the doctrines true, 
the history authentic, the miracles real, the promises 
glorious, the threatenings fearful. Enough, that all 
is gloriously and fearfully true ; true to the Divine 
will, true to human nature, true to its wants, anxieties, 
sorrows, sins and solemn destinies. Enough, that the 
seal of a divine and miraculous communication is set 
upon that Holy Book. 

So we receive it. So we believe in it. And there is 
many a record on those inspired pages, which he who 
believes therein would not exchange ; no, he would 
not exchange it, a simple sentence though it be, for 
the wealth of worlds. 

That God Almighty, the Infinite Creator and Father, 
hath spoken to the world ; that He who speaks indeed, 
in all the voices of nature and life, but speaks there 
generally and leaves all to inference ; that he hath 
spoken to man distinctly, and as it were individually — 
spoken with a voice of interpretation for life's myste- 
ries, and of guidance amidst its errors, and of comfort 
for its sorrows, and of pardon for its sins, and of hope, 
undying hope, beyond the grave ; this is a fact, compared 
with which all other facts are not worth believing in ; 
this is an event, so interesting, so transcendent, trans- 
porting, sublime, as to leave to all other events the 
character only of things ordinary and indifferent. 

But let us pass froni the general truth of this record 



s 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



to some of its particular doctrines. Our attention here 
will be confined to the New Testament. 

I. And we say, in the first place, that we believe " in 
the Father, and in the Son, and in the Holy Ghost." 
This was the simple primitive creed of the Christians ; 
and it were well if men had been content to receive it 
in its simplicity. As a creed, it was directed to be in- 
troduced into the form of baptism. The rite of bap- 
tism was appropriated to the profession of Christianity. 
The converts were to be baptized into the acknowledg- 
ment of the Christian religion ; " baptized into the 
name," that is, into the acknowledgment, of the Father, 
and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. 

This creed consists of three parts. It contains no 
proof, nor hint, of the doctrine of a Trinity. We 
might as well say, that any other three points of 
belief are one point. The creed consists of three parts ; 
and these parts embrace the grand peculiarities of the 
Christian religion ; and it is for this reason, as we 
conceive, and for no other, that they are introduced 
into the primitive form of a profession of Christianity. 

The first tenet is, that God is a paternal Being ; 
that he has an interest in his creatures, such as is 
expressed in the title Father ; an interest unknown to 
all the systems of Paganism, untaught in all the theo- 
ries of philosophy ; an interest not only in the glorious 
beings of other spheres, the sons of light, the dwellers 
in heavenly worlds, but in us, poor, ignorant and un- 
worthy as we are ; that he has pity for the erring, 
pardon for the guilty, love for the pure, kindness for 
the humble and promises of immortal and blessed life 
for those who trust and obey him. God, yes, the God 
of boundless worlds and infinite systems, is our Father. 
How many, in Christian lands, have not yet learned 
this first truth of the Christian faith ! 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



9 



The second article in the Christian's creed is, that 
Jesus Christ is the Son of God, " the brightness of his 
glory, and the express image of his person ;" not God 
himself, but his image, his brightest manifestation ; 
the teacher of his truth, the messenger of his will ; the 
mediator between God and men ; the sacrifice for sin, 
and the Saviour from it ; the conqueror of death, the 
forerunner into eternity, where he evermore liveth to 
make intercession for us. We are not about to argue ; 
but we cannot help remarking, as we pass, how obvious 
it is, that in none of these offices can Jesus be regarded 
as God. If he is God in his nature, yet as Mediator 
between God and man, we say he cannot be regarded 
as God. 

The third object of our belief, introduced into the 
primitive creed, is the Holy Ghost ; in other words, 
that power of God, that divine influence, by which 
Christianity was established through miraculous aids, 
and by which its spirit is still shed abroad in the hearts 
of men. This tenet, as we understand it, requires 
our belief in miracles, and in gracious interpositions 
of God, for the support and triumph of Christian faith 
and virtue. 

Let us add, that these three, with the addition of 
the doctrine of a future life, are the grand points of 
faith which are set forth in the earliest uninspired 
creed on record; commonly called "The Apostles' 
Creed." Its language is, " I believe in God the Father 
Almighty; and in Jesus Christ, his only-begotten Son, 
our Lord ; who was born of the Holy Ghost and Vir- 
gin Mary; and was crucified under Pontius Pilate, 
and was buried ; and, the third day, rose again from 
the dead, ascended into heaven, sitteth on the right 
hand of the Father; whence he shall come to judge 
the quick and the dead ; and in the Holy Ghost ; the 



10 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



Holy Church ; the remission of sins ; and the resur- 
rection of the flesh." Not a word is here of " co-equal 
Son," as in the Nicene Creed ; not a word of " Trin- 
ity," as in the Athanasian. Things approach nearer, 
it should seem, to the simplicity of the Gospel, as they 
approach nearer to its date. To that simplicity of 
faith, then, we hold fast. On that primitive and beau- 
tiful record of doctrine we put our hand and place our 
reliance. We believe "in the Father, and in the Son, 
and in the Holy Ghost." May the Father Almighty 
have mercy upon us ! May the Son of God redeem 
us from guilt, from misery, and from hell ! May the 
Holy Ghost sanctify and save us ! 

From this general creed, let us now proceed to par- 
ticular doctrines. 

H. We believe in the atonement. That is to say, 
we believe in what that word, and similar words mean, 
in the New Testament. We take not the responsi- 
bility of supporting the popular interpretations. They 
are various, and are constantly varying, and are with- 
out authority, as much as they are without uniformity 
and consistency. What the divine record says, we 
believe according to the best understanding we can 
form of its import. We believe that Jesus Christ 
"died for our sins ;" that he " died, the just for the un- 
just ;" that " he gave his life a ransom for many ;" 
that "he is the Lamb of God, that taketh away the 
sins of the world ;" that " we have redemption through 
his blood ;" that we " have access to God, and enter 
into the holiest, that is, the nearest communion with 
God, by the blood of Jesus." We have no objection 
to the phrase " atoning blood," though it is not Scrip- 
tural, provided it is taken in a sense which the Scrip- 
ture authorizes. 

But what now is the meaning of ail this phraseology, 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



11 



and of much more that is like it ? Certainly it is. that 
there is some connexion between the sufferings of 
Christ and our forgiveness, our redemption from sin 
and misery. This we all believe. But what is this 
connexion ? Here is all the difficulty ; here is all the 
difference of opinion. We all believe, all Christians 
believe, that the death of Christ is a means of our sal- 
vation. But how is it a means ? Was it, some one 
will say, perhaps, as if he were putting us to the test ; 
was it an atonement, a sacrifice, a propitiation ? We 
answer, that it was an atonement, a sacrifice, a propi- 
tiation. But now the question is, what is an atone- 
ment, a sacrifice, a propitiation ? And this is the dif- 
ficult question ; a question, to the proper solution of 
which much thought, much cautious discrimination, 
much criticism, much knowledge and especially of the 
ancient Hebrew sacrifices, is necessary. Can we not 
" receive the atonement," without this knowledge, this 
criticism, this deep philosophy ? What then is to be- 
come of the mass of mankind, of the body of Chris- 
tians ? Can we not savingly " receive the atonement," 
unless we adopt some particular explanation, some 
peculiar creed, concerning it? AYho will dare to an- 
swer this question in the negative, when he knows that 
the Christian world, the Orthodox Christian world, is 
filled with differences of opinion concerning it ? The 
Presbyterian Church of America is, at this moment, 
rent asunder on this question. Christians are, every- 
where, divided on the questions, whether the redemption 
is particular or general ; whether the sufferings of 
Christ were a literal endurance of the punishment due 
to sin, or only a moral equivalent ; and whether this 
equivalency, supposing this to be the true explanation, 
consists in the endurance of God's displeasure against 
sin, or only in a simple manifestation of it. 



12 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



The atonement is one thing ; the gracious interposi- 
tion of Christ in our behalf ; the doing of ail that was 
necessary to be done, to provide the means and the 
way for our salvation — this is one thing ; in this we 
all believe. The philosophy, the theory, the theology 
of the atonement, is another thing. About this, Ortho- 
dox Christians are differing with one another, about as 
much as they are differing from us. Nay more, they 
are saying as hard things of one another as they ever 
said of us. Is it not time to learn wisdom ? Is there 
not good reason for taking the ground we do ; the 
ground, that is to say, of general belief and trust, with- 
out insisting upon particular and peculiar explanations ? 

We believe in Christ ; and well were it if we all be- 
lieved in him too fervently and tenderly to be engaged 
much in theological disputes and denunciations. We 
believe in Christ. We pray to God through him. We 
ask God to bless us for his sake ; for we feel that Christ 
makes intercession, and has obtained the privilege to be 
heard, through his own meritorious sufferings. Christ's 
sacrifice is the grandest, the most powerful means of 
salvation. It was a transcendent and most affecting 
example of meekness, patience and forgiveness of in- 
juries. It was a most striking exhibition of God's gra- 
cious interest and concern for us, of his view of the 
evil and curse of sin, and of his compassion for the 
guilty, and of his readiness to forgive the penitent. It 
was an atonement ; that is to say, a means of recon- 
ciliation, — reconciliation not of God to us, but of us to 
God. The blood of that sacrifice was atoning blood ; 
that is, it was blood, on which whoever looks rightly, 
is touched with gratitude and humility and sorrow for 
his sins, and thus is reconciled to God by the death of 
his Son. 

Now it is possible that we do not understand and 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



13 



receive all that is meant by the Scriptures on this sub- 
ject. We admit it, as what imperfection ought always 
to admit ; but we admit it, too, for the sake of saying, 
that, so long as we receive all that we can understand 
from the language in question ; so long as we receive 
and believe every word that is written ; no man has a 
right to say to us, without qualification, " You do not 
believe in the atonement." He may say, " You do not 
believe in the atonement according to my explanation, 
or according to Calvin's explanation ; but he has no 
right to say, without qualification, " You do not believe 
in the doctrine, you do not believe in the propitiation, 
in the reconciliation, in the sacrifice of Jesus ;" no more 
right, than we have to address the same language to 
him.* 

* In an Introductory Essay to Butler's Analogy, published by a 
leading defender of what is called the New Divinity in the Presby- 
terian Church, the author says, " We maintain that the System of 
Unitarians, which denies all such substitution," — meaning the re- 
moval of calamities from us, in ordinary life, by the interposition 
and suffering of another, — " is a violation of all the modes in which 
God has yet dispensed his blessings to man " We may just observe 
in passing, that the respectable author would not say, on reflection, 
" of all the modes;" for many of the most momeatou3 blessings are 
dispensed to us through our own agency. But this is what he would 
say, that the Unitarian belief, with regard to the atonement, vio- 
lates, as he conceives, one great principle of the divine beneficence. 
And that is the principle, that blessings are often conferred on us, 
in the course of Providence, through the instrumentality of others, 
of parents, friends, fellow-beings, &c. " It is by years of patient 
toil in others," says Mr. Barnes, in his Essay, " that we possess the 
elements of science, the principles of morals, the endowments of 
religion." " Over a helpless babe, — ushered into the world, naked, 
feeble, speechless, there impends hunger, cold, sickness, sudden 
death, — a mother's watchfulness averts these evils. Over a nation 
impend revolutions, sword, famine, and the pestilence. The blood 
of the patriot averts these, and the nation smiles in peace." It is 
true that the author does " not affirm that this is all that is meant 
by an atonement," and herein we entirely agree with him. But he 

2 



14 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



We believe then in the atonement. We believe in 
other views of this great subject, than those which are 
expressed by the word atonement. But this word 
spreads before our minds a truth of inexpressible inter- 
est. The reconciliation by Jesus Christ, his interpo- 

certainly is mistaken, when he says, that Unitarians deny all such 
substitution. We deny the Calvinistic explanation of atonement or 
substitution. We might reject the author's hypothesis, too, if we 
knew what it was. But does it follow, that we deny all substitu- 
tion ? On the contrary, we especially hold to such substitution. 

If all reputed belief in the atonement is to depend on receiving 
one particular explanation of it, where is this to end ? The party 
in the Presbyterian Church which strictly adheres to their standards, 
that is, to the genuine old Calvinistic theology, charges Mr. Barnes 
and his friends, and the body of New England Divines, with hold- 
ing " another gospel." These again charge Dr. Taylor and the 
New Haven School with holding " another gospel." Meanwhile, 
each of these bodies very stoutly defends its position, insists upon 
its adherence to Christianity, and protests against the sentence of 
excision. Has either of these parties obtained a monopoly in pro- 
testation and profession ? Are liberality and candor to stop with 
each party, just where its convenience may dictate ? Have they 
needed charity so much, that they have used it all up ? Is the last 
chance of a candid and kind construction gone by ? and is nobody 
ever to be permitted any more to say, " We believe in the Gospel, 
though not according to your explanation ?" 

There are, perhaps, no more accredited defenders of the popular 
doctrine of the atonement than Andrew Fuller and Bishop Magee. 
Fuller, as quoted by Evans in his " Sketch," says, " If we say, a 
way was opened by the death of Christ, for the free and consistent 
exercise of mercy in all the methods which sovereign wisdom saw 
fit to adopt, perhaps we shall include every material idea which the 
Scriptures give us of that important event." — Evans, p 120, 14th 
edition. 

To the question, " In what way can the death of Christ be con- 
ceived to operate to the remission of sins ?" Magee says, " The an- 
swer of the Christian is, I know not, nor does it concern me to 
know, in what manner the sacrifice of Christ is connected with the 
forgiveness of sins ; it is enough that this is declared by God to be 
the medium through which my salvation is effected." — Magee on 
the Atonement, p. 29, American edition. 

With these declarations we entirely agree. 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



15 



sition to bring us nigh to God, is to us his grandest 
office. To our minds there is no sentence of the holy 
volume, more interesting, more weighty, more pre- 
cious, than that passage in the sublime Epistle to the 
Ephesians, " Ye were strangers from the covenants 
of promise, having no hope, and without God in the 
world ; but now in Christ Jesus, ye, who sometime 
were far off, are brought nigh by the blood of Christ." 
It is this which the world needed ; it is this which 
every mind now needs, beyond all things ; to be 
brought nigh to God. By error, by superstition and 
sin, by slavish fears and guilty passions and wicked 
ways, we were separated from him. By a gracious 
mission from the Father, by simple and clear instruc- 
tions, by encouraging representations of God's paternal 
love and pity, by winning examples of the transcend- 
ent beauty of goodness, and, most of all, by that grand 
consummation, death, by that exhibition of the curse 
of sin. in which Jesus was made a curse for it, by that 
compassion of the Holy One, which flowed forth in 
every bleeding wound, by that voice for ever sounding 
through the world, "Father! Father! forgive them," 
Jesus has brought us nigh to God. Can it be thought 
enthusiasm to say, that there is no blessing, either in 
possession or in the range of possibility, to be compared 
with this ? Does not reason itself declare, that all the 
harmonies of moral existence are broken, if the great, 
central, all-attracting Power, be not acknowledged and 
felt ? Without God— to every mind that has awaked 
to the consciousness of its nature — without God, life is 
miserable ; the world is dark ; the\iniverse is disrobed 
of its splendours ; the intellectual tie to nature is bro- 
ken ; the charm of existence is dissolved ; the great 
hope of being is lost ; and the mind itself, like a star 
struck from its sphere, wanders through the infinite 



16 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



region of its conceptions, without attraction, tendency, 
destiny or end. " Without God in the world !" what 
a comprehensive and desolating sentence of exclusion 
is written in those few words ! " Without God in the 
world !" It is to be without the presence of the Creator 
amidst his works, of the Father amidst his family, of 
the Being who has spread gladness and beauty all 
around us. It is to be without spiritual light, without 
any sure guidance or strong reliance, without any 
adequate object for our ever expanding love, without 
any sufficient consoler for our deepest sorrows, without 
any protector when the world joins against us, without 
any refuge when persecution pursues to death, without 
any all-controlling principle, without the chief sanction 
of duty, without the great bond of existence. Oh ! 
dark and fearful in spirit must we be, poor tremblers 
upon a bleak and desolate creation, deserted, despair- 
ing, miserable must we be, if the Power that controls 
the universe is not our friend, if God be nothing to us 
but a mighty and dread abstraction to which we never 
come near ; if God be not " our God, and our exceed- 
ing great reward for ever !" This is the fearful doom 
that is reserved in the gospel of Christ. This the fear- 
ful condition from which it was his great design to de- 
liver us. For this end it was that he died, that he 
might bring ns nigh to God. The blood of martyrdom 
is precious ; but this was the blood of a holier sacrifice, 
of innocence pleading for guilt, " of a lamb without 
spot and without blemish, slain from the foundation 
of the world." 

But we must pass to other topics, and the space that 
remains will oblige us to give them severally much 
less expansion in this brief statement. 

III. In the third place, then, we say, that we believe 
in human depravity ; and a very serious and sadden- 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



17 



ing belief it is, too, that we hold on this point. We 
believe in the very great depravity of mankind, in the 
exceeding depravation of human nature. We believe 
that " the heart is deceitful above all things, and des- 
perately wicked." We believe all that is meant, when 
it is said of the world in the time of Noah, that " all 
the imaginations of men, and all the thoughts of their 
hearts were evil, and only evil continually." We be- 
lieve all that Paul meant, when he said, speaking of 
the general character of the heathen world in his time, 
" There is none that is righteous, no, not one ; there is 
none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh 
after God ; they have all gone out of the Avay, there is 
none that doeth good, or is a doer of good, no, not one ; 
with their tongues they use deceit, and the poison of 
asps is under their lips ; whose mouth is full of cursing 
and bitterness ; and the way of peace have they not 
known, and there is no fear of God before their eyes." 
We believe that this was not intended to be taken 
without qualifications, for Paul, as we shall soon have 
occasion to observe, made qualifications. It was true 
in the general. But it is not the ancient heathen 
world alone, that Ave regard as filled with evil. We 
believe that the world now, taken in the mass, is a very, 
a very bad world ; that the sinfulness of the world is 
dreadful and horrible to consider ; that the nations 
ought to be covered with sackcloth and mourning for 
it ; that they are filled with misery by it. Why, can 
any man look abroad upon the countless miseries in- 
flicted by selfishness, dishonesty, slander, strife, war ; 
upon the boundless woes of intemperance, libertinism, 
gambling, crime ; can any man look upon all this, with 
the thousand minor diversities and shadings of guilt 
and guilty sorrow, and feel that he could write any 
less dreadful sentence against the world than Paul has 
2* 



18 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



written ? Not believe in human depravity ; great, 
general, dreadful depravity ! Why, a man must be a 
fool, nay, a stock or a stone, not to believe in it ! He 
has no eyes, he has no senses, he has no perceptions, 
if he refuses to believe in it ! 

But let the reader of this exposition take with 
him these qualifications ; for although it is popular, 
strangely popular, to speak extravagantly of human 
wickedness, we shall not endeavour to gain any man's 
good opinion by that means. 

First, it is not the depravity of nature, in which we 
believe. Human nature, nature as it exists in the 
bosom of an infant, is nothing else but capability ; capa- 
bility of good as well as evil, though more likely from 
its exposures, to be evil than good. It is not the de- 
pravity, then, but the depravation of nature, in which 
we believe. 

Secondly, it is not in the unlimited application of 
Paul's language, that we believe. When he said, " No, 
not one," he did not mean to say, without qualifica- 
tion, that there was not one good man in the world. 
He believed that there were good men. He did not 
mean to say, that there was not one good man in the 
heathen world ; for he speaks in another place, of those, 
who, " not having the law, were a law to themselves, 
and by nature did those things which are written in 
the law." Paul meant, doubtless, to say, that the 
world is a very bad world, and in this we believe. 

Neither, thirdly, do we believe in what is technically 
called "total depravity;" that is to say, a total and 
absolute destitution of every thing right, even in bad 
men. No such critical accuracy do Ave believe that 
the Apostle ever affected, or ever thought of affecting. 
A very bad child may sometimes love his parents, and 
be melted into great tenderness toward them; and so 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



19 



a mind estranged from God, may sometimes tenderly 
feel his goodness. 

Finally, we would not portray human wickedness 
without the deepest consideration and pity for it. 
Alas ! how badly is man educated, how sadly is he 
deluded, how ignorant is he of himself, how little does 
he perceive the great love of God to him, which, if he 
were rightly taught to see it, might melt him into ten- 
derness and penitence. Let us have some patience 
with human nature till it is less cruelly abused ! Let 
us pity the sad and dark struggle that is passing in 
many hearts, between good and evil ; and, though 
evil so often gains the ascendancy, still let us pity, 
while we blame it ; and while we speak to it in the 
solemn language of reprobation and warning, let us 
"tell these things," as Paul did. "even weeping." 

IV. From this depraved condition, we believe, in the 
fourth place, that men are to be recovered, by a pro- 
cess which is termed, in the Scriptures, regeneration. 
We believe in regeneration, or the new birth. That 
is to say, we believe, not in all the ideas which men 
have annexed to those words, but in what we under- 
stand the sacred writers to mean by them. We be- 
lieve that, "except a man be bora again, he cannot 
see the kingdom of God ;" that " he must be new cre- 
ated in Christ Jesus ;" that " old things must pass 
away, and all things become new." We certainly 
think that these phrases applied with peculiar force 
to the condition of people, who were not only to be 
converted from their sins, but from the very forms of 
religion in which they had been brought up ; and we 
know indeed that the phrase " new birth " did. accord- 
ing to the usage of language in those days, apply es- 
pecially to the bare fact of proselytism. But we be- 
lieve that men are still to be converted from their sins, 



20 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



and that this is a change of the most urgent necessity, 
and of the most unspeakable importance. 

The application of this doctrine, too, is nearly uni- 
versal. Some, like Samuel of old, may have grown 
up to piety from their earliest childhood, and it may 
be hoped that the number of such, through the means 
of more faithful education, is increasing. But we con- 
fess that we understand nothing of that romantic 
dream of the innocence of childhood. There are few 
children who do not need to be " converted f from 
selfishness to disinterestedness, from the sullenness or 
violence of crossed passions to meekness and submis- 
sion, from the dislike to the love of piety and pious ex- 
ercises ; from the habits of a sensual, to the efforts of 
a rational and spiritual nature. Childhood is, indeed, 
often pure, compared with what commonly follows, 
but still it needs a change. And that, which does 
commonly follow, is a character which needs to be es- 
sentially changed, in order to prepare the soul for hap- 
piness in heaven. 

Now there is usually a time in the life of every de- 
voted Christian when this change commences. We say 
not, a moment ; for it is impossible so to date moral ex- 
periences. But there is a time, when the work is resolute- 
ly begun. Begun, we say : for it cannot in any brief 
space be completed. How soon it may be so far com- 
pleted, as to entitle its subject to hope for future hap- 
piness, it is neither easy, nor material, to say. But to 
aver that it may be done in a moment, is a doctrine 
of which it is difficult to say whether it is, in our view, 
more unscriptural, extravagant, or dangerous. 

With such qualifications and guards, authorized by 
the laws of sound criticism, we believe hi regeneration ; 
and we believe that the spirit of God is offered to aid, 
in this great work, the weakness of human endeavour. 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



21 



Y. We believe, too, in the fifth place, in the doctrine 
of election. That is to say, again, we believe in what 
the Scriptures, as we understand them, mean by that 
word. 

The time has been, when, not the intrinsic import- 
ance of this doctrine, but the stress laid upon it, wouLl 
have required that we should give it considerable space 
in this summary view. Our good old Arminian fa- 
thers fought with it for many a weary day. It was 
the great stumbling-block in the way of the last gene- 
ration. And, during our time, it has been held, firmly 
and by many hands, in its place, as one of the essen- 
tial foundations of faith. But, within a few years past, 
it has come to be almost entirely overlooked ; many 
preachers have almost ceased to direct attention to it ; 
and many hearers are left to wonder what has become 
of it, and why it ever occupied a situation so conspic- 
uous. Would that the history of it might be a lesson ! 

The truth is, that the doctrine of election is a 
matter either of scholastic subtilty or of presumptuous 
curiosity, with which, as we apprehend, we have but 
a very little to do. Secret things belong to God. 
We believe in what the Bible teaches of God's infinite 
and eternal foreknowledge. We believe that, of all 
the events and actions, which take place in the uni- 
verse of worlds, and the eternal succession of ages, there 
is not one, not the minutest, which God did not forever 
foresee, with all the distinctness of immediate vision. 
It is a sublime truth. But it is a truth, which the mo- 
ment we undertake to analyze and apply, we are con- 
founded in ignorance, and lost in wonder. We believe, 
but we would take care that we do not presumptuously 
believe. We believe in election, not in selection. We 
believe in foreknowledge, not in fate. We believe in 
the boundless wisdom of God, but not less in the weak- 



22 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



ness of our own comprehension. We believe that his 
thoughts are not as our thoughts, and that his ways 
are not as our ways, and his counsels are not as our 
counsels, and his decrees are not as our decrees. For 
as the heavens are high above the earth, so is he above 
the reach of our frail and finite understanding. 

VI. In the sixth place, we believe in a future state 
of rewards and punishments. We believe that sin must 
ever produce misery, and that holiness must ever pro- 
duce happiness. We believe that there is good for the 
good, and evil for the evil; and that these are to be 
dispensed exactly in proportion to the degree in which 
the good or evil qualities prevail. 

The language of Scripture, and all the language of 
Scripture on this solemn subject, we have no hesitation 
about using, in the sense in which it was originally 
meant to be understood. But there has been that at- 
tempt to give definiteness to the indefinite language of 
the Bible on this subject, to measure the precise extent 
of those words which spread the vastness of the un- 
known futurity before us; and with this system of 
artificial criticism, the popular ignorance of Oriental 
figures paid metaphors, has so combined to fix a specific 
meaning on the phraseology in question, that it is 
difficult to use it without constant explanation. "Life 
everlasting," and " everlasting fire ;" the mansions of 
rest, and the worm that never dieth, are phrases fraught 
with a just and reasonable, but at the same time, vast 
and indefinite import. They are too obviously figu- 
rative to permit us to found definite and literal state- 
ments upon them. And it is especially true of those 
figures and phrases that are used to describe future 
misery, that there is not one which is not also used in 
the Bible to describe things earthly, limited, and tem- 
porary. 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



23 



So confident in their opinions are men made by 
education and the current belief, that they can scarcely 
think it possible that the words of Scripture should have 
any other meaning than that which they assign to 
them. And they are ready, and actually feel as if 
they had a right, to ask those who differ from them to 
give up the Bible altogether. Nay, they go so far 
sometimes, as to aver, in the honesty and blindness of 
their prejudices, that their opponents have given up 
the Bible, and have given up all thoughts of trying 
the questions at issue by that standard. We have 
an equal right certainly to return the exhortation and 
to retort the charge. At any rate, we can accept 
neither. We believe in the Scriptures, as heartily as 
any others, and, as we think, more justly. We believe 
in all that they teach on this subject, and in all they 
teach on any subject. 

We believe, then, in a heaven and a hell. We be- 
lieve that there is more to be feared hereafter than any 
man ever feared, and more to be hoped than any man 
ever hoped. We believe that heaven is more glorious, 
and that hell is more dreadful, than any man ever con- 
ceived. We believe that the consequences both in this 
world and another ; that the consequences to every 
man, of any evil habits he forms, whether of feeling or 
action, run far beyond his most fearful anticipations. 
Are mankind yet so gross in their conceptions, that 
outward images convey the most transporting ideas 
they have of happiness, and the most tremendous ideas 
they have of misery ? Is a celestial city all that they 
understand by heaven ? Let them know that there is 
a heaven of the mind, a heaven of tried and confirmed 
virtue, a heaven of holy contemplation, so rapturous, 
that all ideas of place are transcended, are almost for- 
gotten in its ecstacy. Is a world of elemental fires and 



24 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



bodily torments, all that they understand by hell? 
Let them consider, that a hell of the mind, the hell of 
an inwardly gnawing and burning conscience, the hell 
of remorse and mental agony, may be more horrible 
than fire, and brimstone, and the blackness of dark- 
ness for ever ! Yes, the crushing mountains, the fold- 
ing darkness, the consuming fire might be welcomed, 
if they could bury, or hide, or sear the guilty and ago- 
nized passions, which, while they live, must for ever 
and for ever burn, and blacken, and blast the soul ; 
which, while they live, must for ever and for ever crush 
it down to untold and unutterable misery. 

VII. Once more, and finally ; we believe in the su- 
preme and all-absorbing importance of religion. 

There is nothing more astonishing to us, than the 
freedom of language which we sometimes hear used, 
on this subject ; the bold and confident tone with which 
it is said that there is no religion among us, nothing 
but flimsy and fine sentiment, passing under the name 
of religion. We are ready to ask, what is religion in 
the hearts of men, what are its sources and fountains, 
when they can so easily deny it to the hearts of others ? 
We are inclined to use no severity of retort, on this 
affecting theme ; else the observation of life might fur- 
nish us with some trying questions for the uncharita- 
ble to consider. But we will only express the simple 
astonishment we feel at such treatment. We will only 
say again, and say it more in wonder than in anger ; 
what must religion be in others, what can be its kind- 
ness, and tenderness, and peace, and preciousness, when 
they are so ready to rise up from its blessed affections, 
to the denial of its existence in the hearts of their 
brethren ? 

We repeat, then, that we believe in the supreme and 
all-absorbing importance of religion. "What shall it 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



25 



profit a man, if he gain the whole world and lose his 
own soul ?" is to ns the most undeniable of all argu- 
ments ; "what shall I do to be saved?" the most 
reasonable and momentous of all questions; "God be 
merciful to me, a sinner !" the most affecting of all 
prayers. The soul's concern is the great concern. 
The interests of experimental, vital, practical religion 
are the great interests of our being. No language can 
be too strong, no language can be strong enough, to 
give them due expression. No anxiety is too deep, no 
care too heedful, no effort too earnest, no prayer too 
importunate, to be bestowed upon this almost infinite 
concern of the soul's purification, piety, virtue and 
welfare. No labour of life should be undertaken, no 
journey pursued, no business transacted, no pleasure 
enjoyed, no activity employed, no rest indulged in, 
without ultimate reference to that great end of our 
being. Without it, life has no sufficient object, and 
death has no hope, and eternity no promise. 

What more shall we say ? Look at it ; look at this 
inward being, and say, what is it? Formed by the 
Almighty hand, and therefore formed for some pur- 
pose ; built up in its proportions, fashioned in every 
part, by infinite skill ; an emanation, breathed from 
the spirit of God ; say, what is it ? Its nature, its ne- 
cessity, its design, its destiny ; what is it ? So formed 
it is, so build ed, so fashioned, so exactly balanced, and 
so exquisitely touched in every part, that sin intro- 
duced into it, is the direst misery ; that every unholy 
thought falls upon it as a drop of poison ; that every 
guilty desire, breathing upon any delicate part or 
fibre of the soul, is the plague spot of evil, the blight 
of death. Made, then, is it for virtue, not for sin ; oh ! 
not for sin, for that is death ; but made for virtue, for 
3 



26 



THE UNITARIAN BELIEF. 



purity, as its end, its rest, its bliss ; made thus by God 
Almighty. 

Thou canst not alter it. Go and bid the mountain 
walls sink down to the level of the valleys : go and 
stand upon the seashore and turn back its swelling 
waves ; or stretch forth thy hand, and hold the stars 
in their courses ; but not more vain shall be thy power 
to chang-e them, than it is to change one of the laws 
of thy nature. Then thou must be virtuous. As true 
it is, as if the whole universe spoke in one voice, thou 
must be virtuous. If thou art a sinner, thou "must 
be born again." If thou art tempted, thou must resist. 
If thou hast guilty passions, thou must deny them. If 
thou art a bad man, thoa must be a good man. 

There is the law. It is not our law ; it is not our 
voice that speaks. It is the law of God Almighty ; it 
is the voice of God that speaks ; speaks through eveiy 
nerve and fibre, through every power and element of 
that moral constitution which he has given. It is the 
voice, not of an arbitrary will, nor of some stern and 
impracticable law, that is now abrogated. "For the 
grace of God, that hath appeared to all men, teaches, 
that, denying all ungodliness and every worldly lust, 
they must live soberly, and righteously, and godly in 
this present evil world." So let us live : and then this 
life, with all its momentous scenes, its moving expe- 
riences, and its precious interests, shall be but the be- 
ginning of the wonders, and glories, and joys of our 
existence. So let us live ; and let us think this, that 
to live thus, is the great, urgent, instant, unutterable, 
all-absorbing concern of our life and of our being;. 



ON THE 

NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF; 



WITH INFERENCES CONCERNING DOUBT, DECISION, CONFIDENCE, 
AND THE TRIAL OF FAITH. 



I. 

Now I know in part. — 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 

It is of some importance, I think it is of no little im- 
portance, that Ave should entertain just ideas of the na- 
ture of religious belief. To this subject therefore, and 
especially with a view to consider some difficulties and 
to meet some practical questions, I wish, at present, to 
invite your attention. 

In the first place, then, it may be observed in general, 
that religious belief is essentially of the same nature 
as moral belief. In form they differ, but in substance 
they are the same. The common distinction between 
Religion and Morals, as totally different things, is as 
erroneous in principle as it is injurious in its effects. 
Both have their root in the same great original sense 
of rectitude, which God has impressed on our nature ; 
and without which we should not be men. By reli- 
gion, we mean our duty to God ; and by morals, our 
duty to men : and both are bound upon us by the same 
essential reason ; that they are right. Or they are 
respectively, the love of God and the love of men ; and 
both, in their highest character, are a love of the same 
goodness. Piety and philanthropy are essentially of 



28 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

the same nature. The Bible appeals to both alike, 
and it does not sever, but it binds them together ; sum- 
ming up all its commandments in these two ; " Thou 
shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
thy neighbour as thyself : n and saying emphatically, 
"he that loveth not his brother whom he hath seen, 
how can he love God whom he hath not seen !" 

Further ; as the original grounds of conviction, so 
the steps by which we arrive at our conclusions in 
both of these spheres of duty, are essentially the same. 
The steps are steps of reasoning. The Bible 
teaches morals and religion alike, and teaches them 
in the same way ; and we arrive at its meaning in 
both, by the same means ; viz. by that process of 
reasoning, called criticism. There is not one kind of 
criticism to be applied to those texts which teach the 
love of God, and another to those which teach the love 
of man ; there is the same process of reasoning in both 
cases. And so in Natural Theology, and Moral Phi- 
losophy, alike, we begin with certain original truths in 
the mind, and proceed to deduce certain duties ; and 
in both cases, the process of reasoning is, in kind, the 
same. 

But now the material question, and that to which 
I have been endeavouring to bring you, is this ; what 
kind of reasoning is it ? And the answer is plain ; it 
is that kind of reasoning which is usually called moral 
reasoning. It is commonly denned, simply by being 
distinguished from mathematical reasoning. That is 
to say, it is not like a mathematical deduction, infal- 
lible ; it is not attended with a feeling of certainty, but 
only of belief. 

But still we must distinguish ; fcr it is important to 
observe that the difference of which we speak relates 
only to deductions ; not at all to principles. The 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS EELIEF. 29 

original principles of religion and morals are certain. 
They are as certain as any other principles ; as cer- 
tain as the principles on which mathematical science 
is founded. They are not matters of belief at all, but 
matters of absolute knowledge. Though not in reli- 
gious belief, accurately speaking, yet in religion, there 
are absolute certainties. I am as sure that I have a 
conscience and a religious nature ; I am as sure again, 
that benevolence and other moral qualities are right ; 
and I am as sure that my nature is constituted to ap- 
prove and love them, wherever they appear, in man 
or in God, as I am of my own existence and identity, 
or as I am that my nature is constituted to assent to 
the truth of any mathematical axioms. It is impor- 
tant to say this, because the distinction commonly 
made between mathematical and moral reasonings, 
may be carelessly extended, so as to cover more 
ground than belongs to it. For the basis of the math- 
ematics is not more certain and irrefragable, than the 
basis of morals. 

But the moment we take one step from that basis, 
from those first principles, and enter upon deductions, 
it is agreed by all reasoners, that a marked and essen- 
tial difference obtains. In the mathematics, every 
step of the deduction is as certain as the principle from 
which it started. In moral reasonings, it is not so. 
The ideas, involved in these reasonings, are not so 
definite, the terms not so clear, and the result is, by 
no means, so unerring. The steps of moral deduction, 
of philological criticism, are not steps of demonstration. 
But these are the steps that lead to religious belief, 
that conduct to a creed. A creed is not a certainty, 
but a belief. Put any certainty into a creed, and the 
absurdity would at once be felt. No one could grave- 
ly stand up and say, " I believe in my own existence ; 
3* 



30 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

I believe in my identity ; I believe that I ought to be 
a good man." These are matters of certainty ; but 
the propositions of a creed are matters of logical infer- 
ence. The seal upon it is not absolute consciousness, 
but religious conviction. The scale, on which that 
conviction is marked, is the scale of probability. I 
use this term, probability, I ought to say, in the tech- 
nical sense which moral reasoners assign to it, which 
is stronger, and more definite than the popular sense. 
I use it as simply opposed to certainty. On the scale 
of probability, or of moral reasoning, in other words, 
belief often rises, no doubt, almost to certainty. But 
it never, strictly speaking, arrives at that point. It is 
never absolute certainty ; it is never perfect know- 
ledge. For, " we know in part," says the Apostle. 

From these views, I am not aware that any intelli- 
gent moral or religious reasoners dissent. The dis- 
tinction is familiar in all the standard writers, and may 
be considered as the settled judgment of all who are 
competent to form an opinion on the subject. Moral 
evidence is not demonstration. Belief is not know- 
ledge. Believing a thing to be true, is not knowing it 
to be true. 

Not to dwell longer, then, upon a point so plain, 
and so universally conceded, my further purpose is to 
offer some remarks upon this admitted nature of re- 
ligious belief. 

I. My first remark is, if the view presented be just, 
that it is common to assign, in some respects, a very 
injurious and unwarrantable importance to doubts. 

Doubts enter into the very processes by which we 
arrive at belief. Nay, they enter into the very nature 
of belief itself, They constitute a part of it, by very 
definition. Believing is doubting, to a certain extent. 
Believing and doubting are correlative terms. They 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 31 

are co-essential elements. "We know in part." That 
is to say, our knowledge is imperfect. But imperfect 
knowledge implies uncertainty. And uncertainty is 
doubt. 

But the prevalent feeling and policy of the Christian 
world has been, to beat down and destroy doubts. It 
has given them no quarter. It has allowed them no 
place in the theory of its creeds, though those creeds 
have begun with the phrase "I believe not "I know," 
but "I believe." And this tendency of the public 
opinion and practice of the churches, has had the effect, 
1 wish it may be considered, to give not only an un- 
warrantable, but a most injurious importance to doubts. 
Its effect has been, not only to rend the bosom of the 
church, to cast out many honest and virtuous men from 
it, to make a new sect for every new doubt ; but, I 
fear, to make many, who might have been preserved 
from that result, infidels. Doubt, I say, has derived a 
factitious importance, from this universal persecution. 
That portion of evidence, which leads a man to doubt, 
has been held by him to deserve more attention, than 
that which leads him to believe. One fraction of doubt 
has weighed with him more than nine parts of evidence 
in favour of Christianity, and he has become an unbe- 
liever, we may say, against his own convictions. It is 
an independent and honest mind, too — which makes 
the case a more unfortunate one — that is especially 
liable to be carried away by this fallacy. Such an 
one, afraid of every thing implicit and traditional in 
faith, says, "I have a doubt; I must be fair and impar- 
tial ; I must be true to my convictions ; I must assent 
to nothing from fear or favour ; / have a doubt" this 
man says, " and how can I say I believe, so long as I 
doubt ?" But why, let me ask in turn, should he pay 
this sort of homage to a mere negative conviction 2 



32 TILS NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

What is there in a doubt ; that is to say, what is there 
in a reason against, that is to be treated with so much 
more consideration, than in a reason for ? Why- 
should not this man say, though he may not feel that 
the argument is perfectly satisfactory, though he mat/ 
be troubled with doubts : why should he not say, " I 
have twice as much evidence for the Bible and a future 
life, as I have against them, and how can I doubt so 
long as I have that evidence ?" I am sure this conclu- 
sion would be twice as rational as the other ; and I am 
certain, that the spirit of this conclusion would have 
saved many from unbelief. But we do not ask so 
much as we have asked, in form, and by w~ay of re- 
joinder. We do not ask, we have no right, as advo- 
cates or apologists for Christianity, to ask the man 
who hesitates, to say that he has no doubts ; but we do 
ask, and have, in reason, a right to ask, that he should 
yield his mind, not to any assumed power or impor- 
tance of doubt, but to the preponderance of evidence. 

Beside the doubt about Christianity, there is another 
which may be considered as a part of it, but which, J 
think, demands a distinct notice ; and that is, the 
doubt about a future life. This is a doubt which is 
much more frequently felt, than expressed. You will 
always observe, when it is expressed, that it is done 
with great reluctance and caution, with a feeling 
almost as if a crime were confessed ; and with a feel- 
ing too, as if the matter of the confession were quite as 
peculiar to the individual confessing, as it is painful to 
him. 

Now the difficulty here arises from our not suffi- 
ciently considering the nature of moral evidence, the 
nature of religious belief. It would relieve us, to be at 
once more frank and rational, instead of wrapping up 
the matter like a dark secret, in the cloud of our specu- 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 33 

lative misapprehensions. The truth is, that, in doubt 
on this point, there is nothing very strange. It belongs 
to more minds than you may imagine. It must belong, 
more or less, to all minds. It enters into the very 
nature of our belief in a future state. For that belief 
is not certainty. The point in question, is not the 
subject of intuition. No man ever saw the world of 
departed spirits. All the views and convictions, that 
any man has or can have about it, fall short of actual 
knowledge. We believe, indeed, in the divine mission 
of Christ. We believe, too, in the mercy of God, and 
should entertain some hope of a future life, even on the 
general ground of natural Theology. We see not, 
moreover, how the scene of this life can be cleared up, 
how the great plan of things can be made consistent 
or tolerable, without a future scene. And on all these 
accounts we have a strong faith in futurity. But to 
say that this faith has passed beyond every shadow of 
doubt, is to say more than is true, more than can be 
reasonably demanded of faith. 

Now this shadow, sometimes passing over the mind ; 
why should it chill, or darken, or distress any one, as 
if it were something portentous, or in fact, anything 
extraordinary ? Certainty, it is true, would be grate- 
ful. Uncertainty is painful ; though it is also, I think, 
and will yet attempt to show, useful. It is painful, 
however, I confess, in proportion as it is great. But 
this is what I say ; it is not at all surprising. It is a 
part of our dispensation. Some clouds are between us 
and those ever bright regions, in whose existence we 
fully believe. So God has willed it to be We see 
through a glass darkly. We walk by faith and not 
by sight. We long for a sight of those regions of 
existence in which we are to live ; but it has not 
pleased God to give us that vision. 



34 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

And the point that I would urge is, that we should 
not give any undue importance to this lack of vision, 
or of certainty. We should do most unwisely and 
unnecessarily, to magnify the importance of this doubt, 
by considering it as anything peculiar, or awful, or 
criminal. It is painful, indeed, but not wonderful. It 
is painful ; but the pain, like all the pains of our moral 
imperfection, is an element of improvement; and it is 
to be removed by reflection, by prayer, by self-purifica- 
tion. To the mind rightly thinking and feeling, the 
evidence of immortality is growing continually stronger 
and stronger. Already with some, it touches upon the 
borders of certainty. So may it do with every one 
who hears me. And the direction to be given for every 
one's guidance is, not to stumble at doubt, but to press 
on to certainty. And I hold and firmly believe, that 
an assurance, all but vision, is just as certainly at the 
end of the process, with every right mind, as complete 
demonstration is at the end of every true theorem in 
science. 

This undue importance attached to doubts, becomes 
a still more serious matter, when it affects not only a 
man's opinions, bat his practice. Do not many neglect 
to lead a strictly virtuous and religious life, on this plea 
of uncertainty about the result ? Is it not, at least, the 
plea which the heart secretly offers, to justify its indo- 
lence or indifference ? A man says with himself, " I 
do not know what is the right way, there are so many 
disputes about it ;" and he thinks that, an apology for 
his neglect of the whole subject. Or he says, perhaps, 
" I do not know that the Bible is true ; I do not know 
that there is any future life, or that there is any retri- 
bution hereafter. If I did knoio it, I should act upon 
my knowledge ; but the fact is, there is no certainty 
about these matters, and therefore I shall give myself 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 35 

no trouble about them." Now to justify this conclu- 
sion, he should be able to say, " I know that the Bible 
is not true, and that there is no future life, and no 
retribution hereafter." If he could say this, then his 
premises would be as broad as his conclusion. But to 
say, " I do not know," and therefore to do nothing, is 
as if a man should say, " I do not know that I shall 
have a crop, and therefore I will sow no seed :" or, " I 
do not know that I shall gain property, and therefore I 
will do no business ;" or, " I do not know that I shall 
obtain happiness, and therefore I will not seek it." The 
truth is, that, in the affairs of this life, men act upon 
the strongest evidence, upon the strongest probability; 
it is a part of the very wisdom of their condition, that 
they should so act ; and so they ought to act, so it is 
wise that they should be left to act, in the affairs of 
religion. If any one refuses to act upon such a ground, 
he refuses the discipline of his own nature, and of 
God's providence ; and neither his own nature nor the 
providence of heaven, will hold him guiltless. 

II. Nay more, as a religious being, he must act upon 
some ground, and he ought to cheese the most reason- 
able ground ; and this is the substance of the second 
remark I have to offer on the nature of religious belief. 

It is not often enough considered, perhaps, that every 
man, every thinking man, at least, must have some 
theory, must choose between opposing arguments ; 
must come to some conclusion, which he is to take 
and defend, with all its difficulties. He who doubts, 
is apt to regard himself as occupying vantage ground 
in religious discussion ; as occupying a position above 
the believer, and entitled to look down upon him 
without sympathy, and even with scorn ; as if he, the 
infidel, stood aloof from the difficulties that press upon 
questions of this nature. But this is an entire mistake. 



36 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

He too, the infidel, is in the battle, and there is no dis- 
charge in that war. I have said that believing is doubt- 
ing to a certain extent. I now say that doubting is 
believing to a certain extent. The doubter holds a 
theory. That extreme of doubt, denominated Pyrrhon- 
ism, is still a theory. It is believing something ; and 
something very prodigious, too ; even that nothing is 
to be believed ! Doubting, I say, is believing to a certain 
extent. A man may say he is certain of nothing. But 
he is certain, I suppose, of his uncertainty; certain that 
he is a doubter ; certain then that he is a thinker ; 
certain that he is a conscious being. But still he may 
say, willing to doubt all he can, that with regard to 
the objects of his consciousness, he can have no cer- 
tainty. He is conscious of the difference between truth 
and error, right and wrong ; but he is not certain, he 
says, that these perceptions of his agree with the abso- 
lute, the real truth of things. Is this doubt reasonable ; 
or possible? A man has a perception of existence. 
What existence ? His own. He knows that he exists. 
A man has a perception of rectitude. What rectitude ? 
Why, of a rectitude within hi?n, just as certainly 
existing as he exists. There is a feeling in him : he 
approves it. That is final. He cannot go behind this 
consciousness, into a region of doubt, any more than 
he can go behind the consciousness of his existence. 
Like a flash of lightning, like the voice of thunder, is 
this revelation of conscience from the thickest cloud of 
his doubts ; it is as clear and strong and irresistible. 

But suppose that we have brought the doubter thus 
far to the recognition of the great primitive facts of 
philosophy and religion ; yet when we come to the 
deductions from these facts, to a system of faith, we 
have admitted that there is some uncertainty. How 
shall our reasoner proceed here ? Shall he say that 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 37 

because there is uncertainty, he will believe nothing 1 
That would be refusing to do the only thing and the 
very thing, which the circumstances require of him : 
even to choose between opposing arguments. It would 
be as if the mariner should say, " the waters are un- 
stable beneath me ; they swa5 r me this way and that 
way ; and I will lay no course across the deep." No, 
the only question is ; what is it best to do ? What is 
the wisest course to take ? What is it most reasonable 
to believe in ? The moral inquirer is on the ocean ; 
and to give himself up to doubt, indifference and in- 
action, is to perish there. And the question is between 
remaining in this state, and adopting some religious 
faith for guidance and support. 

Now it appears to me, that the coldest and feeblest 
statement of the argument for religious faith, gathers 
strength and warmth, from being placed in this point 
of light. For thus would a man reason on this ground. 
" To doubt every thing, to doubt all the primitive facts 
of my moral consciousness, I have admitted, is self- 
contradicting absurdity. But to reject all religious 
systems flowing from them, because they are not 
equally certain, is as false in philosophy as to reject 
the original facts. Something, I must believe; some- 
thing better or something worse. Some conclusions 
flow out of the principles, and I cannot help it. To 
reject all conclusion is irrational and impossible folly. 
Nay more, I am bound to accept those conclusions that 
favour the improvement of my nature. That I am 
made to improve is as certain as that I am made to be. 
Now to reject all religious faith, is ruin to my spiritual 
nature. To deny, for instance, the doctrine of immoiv 
tality, comes to the same thing ; my soul dies now, if 
it is not to live for ever. To reject Christianity is to 
reject what is obviously the most powerful means of 
4 



38 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

improvement in the world. At any rate, if there be no 
truth at all in religion, if its grandest principles are 
falsehoods, and its grandest revelations are dreams, 
then the very spring of improvement in me is broken, 
and my situation involves this astounding absurdity ; 
that I am made to improve, to be happy in nothing 
else, and yet that this is the very thing for which no 
provision is made ; that an appetite is given me, which 
craves divine and immortal good ; that on its being 
supplied depends the essential life of my mind and 
heart ; and yet, that beneath the heavens there is no 
food for it; no, nor above the heavens; that the only 
provision made for it is poison and death !" 

Can this be? — as it must be if the skeptic's theory 
be true. Can it be that a light is on my path, which 
leads me to the loftiest and most blessed virtue and 
happiness — such is the light of religion — and yet that 
it sprung from the dark suggestions of fraud and im- 
posture ? Can it be. that God has formed our minds 
to feel the most inexpressible longings after a life be- 
yond the barriers of time ; and yet, that he has left 
our hearts to break with the dreadful conviction that 
the blessed land is not for us? Is this the obvious 
reasonableness of the skeptic's choice? Is this the 
charm of doubt, that is to outweigh the whole mass 
of evidence? Why such useless and cruel contradic- 
tions and incongruities, as enter into the unbeliever's 
plan ? Why are we sent to wander through this world, 
in sorrow and despair, as we must do, if there is no 
guiding light and no inviting prospect? 

It would be easy, if there were space in this discus- 
sion, to present in many lights, the glaring contradic- 
tions to which skepticism must lead, and which surely 
are harder to receive than any tolerably rational sys- 
tem of faith. Suppose that such system were not free 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 39 

from serious difficulties. I think it is; but suppose 
that it were not. Yet if the weight of evidence be in 
its favour ; and if we must embrace some system, and 
that of faith clears up more difficulties than the oppo- 
site system ; is it not most reasonable that our minds 
should settle down into a calm and confiding belief? 
Let every man, with these views, make his election. 
Let him choose — for these are the questions — whether 
he will take, for his portion, light or darkness, cheer- 
fulness or sadness, hope or despair, the warmth of con- 
fiding piety or the cold and cheerless atmosphere of 
distrust, the spirit of sacred improvement or the spirit 
of worldly negligence and apathy. I do not wish, in 
making this contrast, to speak Avith any harshness of 
skepticism. I state it as it appears to myself, and as it 
would appear, let me embrace whichever theory I 
might. Faith is light, and cheerfulness, and hope, and 
devotion, and improvement. And doubt, on essential 
points, is in its very nature darkness, and sadness, and 
despondency, and distrust, and spiritual death. 

For which, think you — for I cannot help pressing 
the alternative a moment longer — for which was our 
nature made 1 To be lifted up and strengthened, to 
be bright and happy, or to be cast down and crushed ; 
to be the victim of doubt ; to be plunged into the dun- 
geon of despair ? Suppose a man should literally shut 
himself up in a dungeon, should sit down in darkness, 
and surround himself with none but dismal objects, 
should resign his powers to inaction, and give up all 
the glorious prospects and enjoyments of the wide and 
boundless universe; and then should say, that this 
was the portion designed for him by the Author of 
nature. What should we say to him? We should 
say, and surely we should take strong ground, " Your 
Maker has given you limbs, and senses ; he has given 



40 THE NATURE OP RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

you active powers, and capacities for improvement, and 
he designed that you should use them ; he made you 
not to dwell in a prison, not to dwell in dungeon 
glooms, but he made you for light, and action, and 
freedom, and improvement, and happiness. Your 
senses, your very faculties, both of body and mind, will 
perish and die, in this situation; go forth, then, into 
the open and fair domain of nature and life." And 
this we may say, with equal force, to him who is paus- 
ing on the threshold of the dreary prison-house of 
skepticism. God made us not to know, not to know 
everything, for then must he have made us equal to 
himself ; but to believe, to confide, to trust. And he 
who refuses to receive what is reasonable, because it is 
not certain, refuses obedience to that very law, under 
which he is created and must live. 



II. 



JVow I know in part. — 1 Cor. xiii. 12. 

From these words, I resume the subject of my morn- 
ing discourse. The subject was the nature of religious 
belief, though it was my leading object to present some 
inferences from the admitted principles of this kind of 
belief. With regard to the nature of faith, however, 
I stated what is admitted on all hands, that it is not 
certainty ; that believing is not knowing ; that this 
kind of conviction is entirely to be distinguished from 
intuition and from the results of scientific demonstra- 
tion. But in this account of faith, I said that its ori- 
ginal principles are not to be confounded. They are 
certain. They are not matters of faith, but of know- 
ledge. I do not believe that I exist ; I know it. I do 
not believe in the difference between right and wrong ; 
I know it. I do not believe that benevolence or the 
promotion of others' happiness is right ; I know it. In 
all these cases, I assert a self-evident proposition ; a 
truism, in fact. I am but saying in effect, that right 
is right, and wrong is wrong. But the moment I de- 
part from these primary moral distinctions and first 
truths of religion, and take one step of deduction, that 
is a step of faith. Absolute certainty then forsakes 
me, and I stand upon the ground of faith. My deduc- 
tions then are not mathematical, but moral ; they are 
not certain, but they take their place on the scale of 
logical probability. That is to say, they are accom- 
panied with something more or less of doubt ; and re- 
ligious doubting therefore, ought not to be made the 
4* 



42 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

monster that it has been, in the Christian world. It 
is giving an unwarrantable importance to doubt, thus 
to treat it. And this was the matter of my first infer- 
ence. My next observation was, that every thinking- 
man must have a system, and is bound to adopt that 
which is most reasonable ; that the skeptic has a sys- 
tem as truly as the believer ; and that in the balance 
of probabilities, the skeptic has adopted a system, which 
not only has its difficulties, like every other, but which 
has this special and insuperable difficulty ; that it is 
fatal to the clearest principles and dearest hopes of 
human improvement. 

III. In connection with what I have said about the 
nature of faith, let me now observe, in the third place, 
that those who profess to know that they are right, 
who profess this not only in regard to the great points 
of conscience and of consciousness, but also in regard to 
the peculiarities of their creed, have as little to support 
them, in a just view of the subject, as those who give 
an undue importance to their doubts ; or as those who 
choose a system of doubt, (by definition, the weaker 
system,) in preference to a system of faith. 

I have heard men say, when comparing themselves 
with their religious opponents, and I have remarded 
that it was said witn great self-complacency ; " The 
difference between us and others is, that they think 
indeed, that they are right, but we know that we are 
right. They are confident that they hold the truth, 
but toe are certain that we hold the truth." Now for 
any men to say this, is so very little to the credit of 
their discrimination, that it cannot be much to the 
credit of their correctness. It shows that so far from 
being entitled to presume that they have the right 
faith, that they do not know what any faith is ; that 
they do not know what faith is in the most generic 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 



43 



sense ; that they do not understand the definition of 
the term. Faith is not knowledge. Believing that 
we are right is not, in any tolerable use of the Eng- 
lish language, knowing that we are right. For what 
a man seeth, why doth he yet hope for? What he 
knoweth, why doth he speak of as a matter of faith ? 
Demonstration is one thing ; a creed is another, and 
an entirely different thing. It is so by definition. 

I do not object to a firm persuasion in any mind, 
that it is right, provided the point be one on which it 
is competent to decide. I do not object, now, to the 
use of the phrase — as a phrase of great emphasis and 
energy — " I know, or I feel, or I am sure," that a cer- 
tain doctrine is true. But when any persons profess 
to use this expression of confidence literally and accu- 
rately ; when they hold this their assurance, as a spe- 
cific and triumphant distinction ; when they claim to 
be superior to others on such ground, and would at- 
tempt to overawe and abash modest and thoughtful 
men, by such arrogant and irrational pretensions to 
infallibility, I think it a proper occasion for applying 
the language of the apostolic rebuke, and telling them 
that they " know not what they say, nor whereof they 
affirm." They quite mistake the subject and subject- 
matter of which they are speaking ; and I have only 
to remind them that it is believing that they were talk- 
ing about, not knowing. 

The principle must be a very poor one too, that works 
so poorly in practice ; that destroys itself, indeed, the 
moment it is brought to its application. If different 
classes of Christians will say, modestly, and no matter 
how solemnly, that they believe that they are right ; and 
yet will concede so much to human frailty as to admit, 
that they may be wrong in some measure ; then, their 
respective claims do not destroy each other entirely. 



44 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

nor destroy the common faith. But if every class will 
have it that it knows itself to be right, and knows 
everything differing from it to be wrong ; what a pic- 
ture of presumptuous, distracted and self-destroying 
churches is presented to us 1 Here is the Calvinist, 
that knows he is right ; and the Arminian knows he 
is right ; and the Universalis t knows he is right ; and 
the Swedenborgian has his full measure of the same 
comfortable knowledge ; and the Presbyterian and 
Episcopalian, and the Methodist and Baptist, are each 
and all, possessed of the same undoubting assurance. 
Are all right, then, in the points in which they differ ? 
No ; that is impossible. To what, then, does this 
vaunted distinction of knowing, amount ? To nothing 
at all. That cannot be a distinction which appertains 
to all classes, to individuals, that is to say, of all classes. 
To what, then, does the knowing itself amount ? I 
answer once more, to nothing at all. For it is clear, 
that all this knowing cannot be knowledge. It may 
be confidence, and presumption, and positive assertion, 
but it is not knowledge. 

But a man may say, " It is a matter of experience, 
and therefore I know it." What, let me ask, is a 
matter of experience ? Not that any theological sys- 
tem is true, not that any doctrine is revealed, not that 
any one mode of church order is divinely ordained. 
These are matters of inference, not of experience. 
" Nay, but my meaning," says the confident votary, 
" is, that my faith or my mode of worship has had 
such an effect upon me ; it has so delightfully wrought 
itself into my experience, that I am sure it must be 
the true doctrine, the true way. Heaven has thus 
sealed it to me in absolute certainty." If only one 
class could say this, it might amount to something 
like presumptive proof. But the truth is, that every 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 45 

form of faith and discipline can present just such in- 
stances. It is particularly true, that recent conversion 
to a religious system is apt to produce this kind of 
vivid experience. There is not a faith in Christendom, 
Catholic or Protestant, strict or liberal, but has con- 
verts ready to proclaim its efficiency. The argument 
proves too much, legitimately to prove anything. 

This arrogance, too, is as unseemly as it is baseless. 
If the subject did not forbid it, yet the sense of imper- 
fection ought to restrain a frail, fallible, erring human 
being from such presumption ; presumption too, which 
is commonly strong, in proportion as the doctrine is 
dark and doubtful, and the mind is readier to decide 
than to examine. Such, indeed, was not the spirit of 
Newton, " child-like sage." Such was not the spirit of 
Socrates, who, against the all-knowing sophists of his 
day, was accustomed to say that he professed to know 
nothing ; that he was only a seeker after knowledge. 
Such, in fine, has never been the spirit of deep study 
and patient thought. But assurance rises up to speak, 
where modesty is silent ; and a rash judgment, to pro- 
nounce, where patient inquiry hesitates ; and ignorance 
to say, " I know," where real knowledge can only say, 
"I believe." 

Such was not the spirit of the author of the "Saints' 
Rest," nor of the good old English time. " I am not 
so foolish," says Baxter, " as to pretend my certainty 
to be greater than it is, merely because it is a dishonour 
to be less certain. My certainty, that I am a man, is 
before my certainty, that there is a God. My certainty, 
that there is a God, is before my certainty, that he re- 
quireth love and holiness of his creatures. My certainty 
of this is greater than my certainty of the life of rewards 
and punishments hereafter. My certainty of that is 
greater than my certainty of the endless duration of 



46 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 



it, and the immortality of individual souls. My cer- 
tainty of the Deity is greater than my certainty of 
the Christian faith. My certainty of the Christian 
faith, in its essentials, is greater than my certainty of 
the perfection and infallibility of the Holy Scriptures. 
And my certainty of that is greater than my certainty 
of many particular texts, and so of the truth of many 
particular doctrines, and of the canonicalness of some 
certain books." 

Let me add a word of caution, however, if it can be 
necessary, in closing this part of my discourse. Because 
I maintain that absolute certainty does not properly 
attach to matters of faith, let it not by any means be 
regarded as a fair inference, that the great points of 
our Christian faith are to be held as if they were doubt- 
ful matters. A believer is, by definition, one whom 
belief, and not doubt, characterizes. And the Christian 
belief, I hold to be founded on such evidence, as to be 
put "beyond all reasonable doubt." This phrase, "be- 
yond reasonable doubt," is held in the law, to describe 
the nearest approach to certainty, that is compatible 
with the nature of moral evidence ; to describe such a 
degree of confidence as lays a just foundation for deci- 
sion and action. Such I hold to be the nature and 
strength of the Christian faith. 

I have thus attempted to show that uncertainty or 
doubt, greater or less in degree, is a part of our dispen- 
sation, implied in that declaration of the Apostle, that 
we know only in part ; that it is implied in the very 
nature of moral evidence ; implied in faith ; and there- 
fore that it is not to be regarded as monstrous, nor to 
be magnified into undue importance, nor to be made a 
reason for rejecting the system of faith ; unless, in the 
second place, it can lay claim to a strength and con- 
sistency, and an escape from difficulties, which will 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 



47 



give it manifest superiority over the system of faith ; 
a superiority which, on great points, is denied to it by 
its utter insufficiency to improve, exalt, strengthen and 
bless human nature ; and, finally, I have insisted, that, 
on the other hand, no rational system of faith, when 
it goes beyond the principles of absolute conscience 
and consciousness, can pretend to be freed from doubt, 
can pretend to absolute certainty ; and hence, that the 
confident assurance of the fanatic is, in this matter^ as 
much out of place, as the overweening self-complacency 
of the skeptic. 

IV. But after all, this, to some, may be a very un- 
satisfactory view of the subject. They may even think 
it injurious and unsafe. I must not leave the subject, 
therefore, without attempting, in the last place, to show 
the utility of that moral system and mental discipline, 
under which, as I contend, we are placed. That we 
are placed under it, is, indeed, in my view, a sufficient 
answer to all objections. But it may still be asked, 
why is it so ? Why is there one shadow or shade left 
on our path ? Why, instead of shining brighter and 
brighter, can it not be, from the beginning one track 
of brightness ? Why are we not made just as sure of 
every moral truth, that is interesting and important to 
us, as we are that we behold the light of the sun ? 
Why, in fine, is not moral evidence, like mathematical 
demonstration, put beyond every possibility of doubt 1 

It might, indeed, be answered that the very nature 
of the subjects, and of the mind, makes the difference. 
And I believe that this is true. At any rate, it is in- 
conceivable to us that moral deductions should, by any 
possibility, have been made as definite and certain as 
those of the most exact science. But I am not obliged 
to rest the answer on this apparent necessity of the 
case alone ; and I proceed to offer, in further defence 



48 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

of that moral constitution of things under which our 
minds are trained up, the consideration of utility. 

I say, then, that it is a useful system, a good system ; 
the best system by us conceivable. If I am asked why 
we have not vision, instead of promise, to guide us ; 
why we have not assurance, instead of trust ; why not 
knowledge, instead of faith ; I answer, because it is not 
expedient for us. Probably we could not bear vision, 
or it would be too much for our contentment or our 
attention to the objects around us ; but I do not rest 
on a probability. I appeal to what is certain also ; and 
that is, that assurance and knowledge would lessen 
the trial of virtue and of the intellect ; and therefore 
would hinder their improvement. 

To give an illustration of my meaning, and especially 
to show why it may not be expedient that we should 
have an actual vision of a future life ; it is not best that 
children, for instance, should be introduced to an actual 
knowledge or experience of the circumstances, allure- 
ments, or interests of maturer life. That view of the 
future might too much dazzle or engross them, might 
distract them from the proper business of their educa- 
tion, and might, in many ways, bring a trial upon their 
young spirits, beyond their power to bear. Therefore, 
they look through a veil upon the full strength of hu- 
man passions and interests. Human love and hate, 
and hope and fear, human ambition and covetous ness, 
and splendour and beauty, they " see through a glass 
darkly." Just as little might we be able in this child- 
hood of our being, to have the realities of a future 
scene laid open to us. 

Again, for an illustration of the general advantages 
of inquiry instead of certainty ; if a man were to travel 
around the globe, it might be far more agreeable and 
easy for him, to have a broad and beaten pathway, to 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 49 

have marked and regular stages, to be borne onward 
in a chariot under an experienced and safe conduct, 
and to have deputations from the nations he passed 
through, to wait upon him, and to inform him exactly 
of every thing he wished to know. But would such a 
grand progress be as favourable to his character, to his 
mental cultivation or moral discipline, to his enterprise 
and good sense and hardihood and energy, as it would 
be to thread out his way for himself ; to overcome ob- 
stacles and extricate himself from difficulties ; to take, 
in other words, the general chart of his travels, and to 
gain an acquaintance with men and things, by inquiry 
and observation, and reasoning and experience ? Such 
is the course ordained for the moral traveller in passing 
through this world. And certainly it is better for him ; 
better that he should draw conclusions, though he 
make mistakes ; better that he should reason upon 
probabilities, though he sometimes err ; better that he 
should gain wisdom from experience, though the way 
be rough and sometimes overshadowed with uncertain- 
ty, than that he should always move on, upon the 
level and easy and sure path of knowledge. 

Apply the same question to the ordinary course of 
life. A youth might always have a tutor, or a mentor 
to direct him. And then he would always be in the 
condition of one who knew what to do, of one who 
had no doubt. Yes, and he would always be a child. 
Can any one doubt that it would be more conducive 
to his improvement, to his courage and resolution, to 
his wisdom and worth, that he should be obliged to 
reason, to employ his powers, to be tried with conflict- 
ing views of subjects, to find out his own way, to grow 
wise by his own experience, and to have light break 
in upon his path as he needs it, or as he seeks it? 
But such is the actual course of life ; and similar to 
5 



50 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

this, is the course which the mind must take in the re- 
ligious life. 

Nor is this all. It appears to me that there is one- 
further, more specific, and more important use of the 
trials of faith ; and that is, that they urge us to the 
most strenuous self-purification and fervent piety. I 
believe that it is an express law of religious progress, 
that the advancement and strength of our faith, other 
things being equal, are always in proportion to the 
fervour and parity of our religious affections. This 
law results from the very nature of the subjects to 
which it relates. Our faith in Christianity, for in- 
stance, and in a future life, is not a deduction of ab- 
stract reasoning, irrespective of ourselves and of the 
character of God, nor of the nature of the communica- 
tion as compared with them. Belief is grounded, in 
part, on certain views of our nature and wants, and 
on certain views of the character of God. Now, n me 
but a pure and spiritual mind can estimate the trans- 
cendent worth of its own nature, or can so love God, as 
to entertain a just view of his love to us, and to 
hope all, that the filial mind will hope from him. Self- 
purification, therefore, is an essential part of the pro- 
gress, to light and certainty. 

In this progress, not a few have arrived to the very 
confines of the land of vision. Their faith has become 
scarcely less than assurance. Invisible things have 
not only become the great realities, as they are to all 
men of true faith ; but they have become, as it were, 
almost visible ; there is a presence of God, felt and 
almost seen, in all nature and life; there is, in the 
heart, an assurance, a feeling of heaven and immor- 
tality. So it is oftentimes with the good man in the 
approach to death ; the veil of flesh is almost rent from 
him; the shadows of mortal imperfection are disap- 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 51 

pearing ; the threshold of heaven is gained ; and beam- 
ings from the ever-bright regions, fill his soul with 
their blessed light. Then it is, that it is hard to return 
to life ; to pass again beneath the shado w ; to feel the 
cold, dull realities of life effacing the impressions of 
heavenly beauty and glory. This is sometimes looked 
upon, I know, as a kind of hallucination, a visionary 
rapture ; and so it sometimes may be ; but the truth 
is, that in the purified mind, it is the result of principles 
in accordance with the strictest reason. The explana- 
tion is, that such a mind is prepared to receive the full 
and entire impression of the objects of faith ; the light 
of heaven is indeed around that mind, because it is as 
an image pure and polished and bright to reflect the 
light of heaven. 

True faith is, indeed, a great and sublime quality. 
It is greater, I am persuaded, than it is commonly ac- 
counted to be, much as it is exalted, and lauded in religi- 
ous discourses. It is sometimes lauded, indeed, at the 
expense of reason. It is often so represented as if its 
sublimity consisted in its being a mystical quality, in 
its superiority to works, to the labours of duty, to the 
exercise of the quiet and humble virtues. To the 
hearer of such representations, it often seems as if this 
glory and charm of faith lay in a sort of visionary peace 
of mind, obtained without any reference to the culture 
of the mind or of the heart. But no ; the very reverse 
of this is the truth. Faith is a great and sublime 
quality, because it is founded in eternal reason ; be- 
cause it is a patient and faithful inquirer, and not a 
hasty and self-confident rejector, not an idolizer of its 
own fanciful and visionary suggestions of doubt. It is 
great too, because it is moral ; because, as an Apostle 
declares, it works by love, and purifies the heart ; be- 
cause it is an elevation of the soul towards the purity 



52 THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 

and glory of the only and independently great and 
glorious Being. It is great, moreover, and in fine, be- 
cause it is a principle of perpetual advancement. It 
does not write down its creed, as if it could never go 
beyond that ; as if that were its standard and its limit ; 
as if that were the sum and the perfection of all that it 
could ever receive. No ; it is a sublime principle, 
because it takes hold of the sublimity of everlasting 
progress. When it reaches a brighter sphere ; when it 
no longer knows in part, but knows as it is known ; 
when its contemplation has become actual vision, and 
its deductions have risen to assume the certainty and 
take the place of first principles ; then will it, on the 
basis of these first principles, proceed to still farther 
deductions. Still and ever will the fields of inquiry lie 
before it ; far and for ever before it. Onward and on- 
ward will they spread, beneath other heavens, to other 
horizons; bright regions, leading to yet brighter re- 
gions ; boundless worlds for thought to traverse, beyond 
the track of solar day : where — where shall its limit 
be ? What eye can pursue its flight through the in- 
finitude of ages ! 

Christian ! wouldst thou make that boundless, that 
glorious career thine own ? Then be faithful to the 
light that now shines around thee. Sink not to rest 
or slumber, beneath the passing shadows of doubt. 
To sink, to sleep, is not thy destination, but to wake, 
to rise. Rise then to the glorious pursuit of truth; 
connect with it the work of self-purification ; open thy 
mind to heavenly hope ; aspire to the life everlasting ! 
Count it not a strange thing that thou hast difficulties 
and doubts. Well has it been said, that he who never 
doubted, never believed. Shrink not and be not afraid, 
when that cloud passeth over thee. Through the 
cloud, still press onward. Only be assured of this, and 



THE NATURE OF RELIGIOUS BELIEF. 53 

with this assurance be of courage; God made thee to 
believe. Without faith, the ends of thy being cannot 
be accomplished, and therefore, it is certain that he 
made thee to believe. In perfect confidence, then, say 
this with thyself; "I am sure that I shall believe ; all 
that is necessary for me, I shall believe ; in the faith- 
ful and humble use of my faculties, I am assured that 
I shall come to this result. I fear not doubt ; I fear 
not darkness ; doubt is the way to faith, and darkness 
is the way to light." Come, holy light! come, blessed 
faith ! and cheer every humble seeker with joy un- 
speakable and full of glory ! 

And it will come to every true and trusting heart. 
Why do I say this ? Because, I still repeat, I know 
that God made our nature for faith, and virtue, and 
improvement. Why should it be difficult to see this ? 
And are not skepticism and sin and the process of 
moral deterioration; are they not misery and dark- 
ness and destruction to our nature ? Look at the young 
tree of the forest. Are you not sure that God made it 
to grow? And can you doubt that he made your 
moral nature, to grow and flourish ? But how does he 
make that tree to grow? By pouring perpetual sun- 
shine upon it? No ; he sends the storm and the tem- 
pest upon it ; the overshadowing cloud lowers upon its 
waving top; and its branches wrestle with the rude 
elements. So it is with human faith. Amidst storm 
and calm, amidst cloud and sunshine alike, it rises 
and rises, stronger and stronger ; till it is transplanted 
at length, to the fair clime of heaven ; there to grow 
and blossom, amidst everlasting light, in everlasting 
beauty. 

5 # 



NOTE. 



I have met in Professor Stuart's Miscellanies, just published, 
(see Appendix, p. 205-6) with the following (to me) very sur- 
prising comment, not only upon the language of the foregoing 
article, but upon the motives of the writer : surprising, because 
1 as little suspected in my relations with my former Instructor in 
Biblical studies as in my own conscious integrity, any ground for 
such causeless wrong. In a notice of Mrs. Dana's admirable 
Letters, Professor Stuart says : — 

" On p. 71 she has a long extract from Dr. Dewey, of New 
York, in which he asserts that the Unitarians believe in the 
Father, Son and Holy Ghost ; in the atonement as a sacrifice, a 
propitiation ; in human depravity, in regeneration, in the doctrine 
of election, and in a future state of rewards and punishments. 
On the part of such a man as Dr. Dewey I can call this nothing 
but gross deception. He knows w 7 ell, although this lady-cham- 
pion does not, that there is not a single one of these doctrines, 
according to the usual sense attached to them by all theologians 
of any name, which Unitarians admit, and which indeed they do 
not violently oppose. The artifice of Dr. Dew 7 ey consists in 
employing an entirely new set of definitions." And then, after 
speaking of the well-known and acknowledged difference between 
the Calvinistic and Unitarian construction of these doctrines, he 
adds — " The worst of the case is, that he (Dr. D.) knows this 
to be so ; and yet he holds out these lures before the public. * * 
It is an unworthy — a degrading artifice to practise thus upon the 
credulity or ignorance of his uninstructed hearers or readers. 
It merits (what it will be certain sooner or larer to receive) the 
scorn of every upright and honest man." 

To this language, which I do not wish to characterize, the 
article may be quietly left, to reply for itself. Throughout, as 
the reader must see, a discrimination is studiously made, between 
the Orthodox and the Liberal construction of the terms in ques- 
tion. So far from my professing to hold them in the Calvinistic 
and Trinitarian sense ; that is precisely what is denied. There 



NOTE. 



55 



is nowhere any bald statement of a creed, as Professor Stuart 
lays it down for me ; there is no such sentence as he professes to 
quote ; but the subjects mentioned, are taken up in succession; 
and at every step the qualification is distinctly made, that we 
receive what the words, as we understand them, mean in the 
Scriptures, and not what they mean in the popular creeds. In 
the very outset, the reader will perceive, if he will turn to the 
paragraph on p. 5-6, that I argue for the propriety of our using 
some of these terms more freely than we do, though in a sense 
different from the Orthodox use, because they are Scripture terms. 
Indeed, if they had been used without any express qualification, 
if they had been recited as a bare creed, does not the very posi- 
tion of the writer as a Unitarian, obviously qualify them ; and 
would not any man, on a moment's reflection, say — "Of course 
he uses them in a sense of his own ?" And does Professor Stuart 
really suppose that we are anxious to be thought or called Trini- 
tarians and Calvinists? The case speaks for itself. The allega- 
tion is absurd. It is scarcely possible for me, seriously to con- 
sider it. I can hardly persuade myself that Prof. Stuart himself 
believes what his language implies. And most sincerely do I 
wish, from the respect which I have always felt and expressed 
for him, that the charge might bear no more serious aspect any 
way, than it does towards myself. 

The only pertinent, not to say decent charge, would be — not 
that of disingenuousnes6 ; intentional, mean, base, contemptible 
disingenuousness — but of impropriety, in the use of the terms 
with which I have set forth " the Unitarian Belief." If this were 
the allegation, I should then ask — Does Prof. Stuart mean to say 
that only he and those who think with him, have a right to de- 
fine their faith, in Scripture language? This would be a new 
kind of claim. This would be an exclusion that would drive us 
beyond the pale of English speech. I had thought that speech 
and Bible speech were common property. He might as well 
say, " These persons profess to believe in God and Christ, in re- 
ligion and holiness, and they are guilty of gross deception." 
What language, I pray, are we to use — believing as we do? 
We do believe in the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost. 
This is the great, primitive, Christian creed. As such it is in- 
troduced in the proselyte's ordinance of baptism. In baptism we 
continually use it. Must we not be allowed to say that we be- 
lieve in what those words mean? We do believe in the Atone* 



56 



NOTE. 



ment, the Sacrifice, the Propitiation, as we understand the New 
Testament to teach them ; and in the same sense, we believe in 
human depravity, regeneration, election, and a future state of re- 
wards and punishments. And can we not say that we believe in 
them, without incurring the charges of " gross deception," of 
" artifice," and of a conduct which " merits the scorn of all up- 
right and honest minds"? 

These theological common-places — these polemic accusations 
— alas ! one is tempted to exclaim, in what school of morality is 
it, that they yet find a home? In what atmosphere of religious 
sentiment is it, that is breathed the fierce and fiery breath of 
such terrible accusations ? If it were Christian, one could hardly 
wonder at the Infidelity, that should seek a better school. 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS 



ON THE 

QUESTIONS AT ISSUE BETWEEN ORTHODOX AND 
LIBERAL CHRISTIANS.* 



I. 

ON THE TRINITY. 

What is the doctrine of the Trinity? It is, that 
the Almighty Father is God; that Jesus, whom he 
sent into the world, is God ; and that the Holy Spirit, 
represented also as a separate agent, is God ; and yet 
that these three, " equal in power and glory," are but 
one God. This is what the advocate of the Trinity 
says. But now let me ask him to consider what it 
is, that he thinks ; not what are the words he uses, 
but what are his actual conceptions. If he conceives 
of only one God, one Infinite mind ; and then if all that 
he means by the Trinity is, that the Saviour and the 
Holy Spirit partook, in some sense, of the nature of 
God; this is nothing materially different from what 
we all believe. If he means that the Father, Son, and 
Spirit, are only representations of the same God, acting 

* I mean no offence by this designation of the parties. If the 
words, Orthodox and Liberal, be taken in a literal sense, then, of 
course, I claim to be orthodox, and I do not deny that others are 
liberal. But I take the terms as they are used in common parlance ; 
and I prefix them to this series of articles, because no other cover the 
whole ground of the discussion. In any view, if others assume the 
title of Orthodox, I think they cannot charge us with presumption, 
if we adopt the title of Liberal. 



58 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



in three characters, then he is not a Trinitarian, but a 
Sabellian. But if he goes farther, and attempts to 
grasp the real doctrine of the Trinity ; if he attempts 
to conceive of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit, as 
possessing each a distinct existence, consciousness and 
volition, as holding counsel and covenant with each 
other ; then, though he may call these Three one, 
though he may repeat it to himself all the day long, 
that they are but one ; yet does he actually conceive 
of them as three agents, three beings, three Gods? 
The human mind, I aver, is so constituted, that it can- 
not conceive of three agents, sustaining to each other 
the relations asserted by the doctrine of the Trinity, 
without conceiving of them as three Gods. 

Let the reader keep his mind free from all confusion 
on this point, arising from Christ's incarnation, or 
adoption of human nature. Before that event, the 
distinction is held by Trinitarians to be just as marked 
as it is now. Then it was that the Father covenanted 
with the Son. Then it was, that the Son offered to 
assume human nature, and not the Father. Then it 
was, that the Father promised to the Son that he 
should " see the travail of his soul and be satisfied." 
Then it was that the Father sent the Son into the 
world. Is it possible for any human mind to contem- 
plate these relations, without conceiving of those be- 
tween whom they existed, as two distinct, self-con- 
scious Beings ? I aver that it is not. The Father, 
by supposition, must have known that he was not the 
Son. The Son must have known that he was not 
the Father. Two, who speak to one another, who 
confer together; the one of whom commissions, the 
other is commissioned; the one of whom sends the 
other into the world ; these two are, to every human 
mind so contemplating them, and are in spite of itself, 



ON THE TRINITY. 



59 



two beings. If not, then there is nothing in the uni- 
verse answering to the idea of two beings. We ail 
partake of a common humanity ; and it might just as 
well be maintained that all men are one being, as 
that the three in the Trinity are one being. 

In simple truth, I do not see why any reader on this 
subject need go farther than this. Till something 
credible is offered to be proved ; till something better 
than absolute self-contradiction is proposed as a mat- 
ter of belief ; who is bound to attend to the argument ? 

I mean no discourtesy nor injustice to the Trinita- 
rian, unless argument shall be thought such. I know 
that he supposes himself to hold a theory, which es- 
capes from the charge of self-contradiction. But so 
long as he says that the Father sent the Son, and that 
these two are one and the same being, I believe that 
he does not and cannot escape from it. I know that 
he professes to believe in one God; and in truth, in 
all his practical and devotional thoughts ; whenever 
he prays to the Father through the Son, he is, and 
his mind compels him to be, virtually a Unitarian. 
And this doubtless is, and always has been, the state 
of the general mind. Practical Unitarianism has al- 
ways been the general faith of Christendom. Even 
when, as in the Roman Church, and sometimes in the 
Protestant, men have prayed to Jesus Christ, it would 
be f und, if their thoughts could be confessed, that 
they have forgotten the Father for the time, and then- 
error has not consisted in Tritheism, but in clothing 
the being, called Jesus, with the attributes of sole 
Divinity. Still, though erring, they have been practi- 
cal Unitarians. But scholastic men have always been 
weaving theories, at variance with the popular and 
effective belief. Half of the history of philosophy might 
be written in illustration of this single point. Such a 



60 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



theory, I conceive, is the Trinity. It has existed in 
studies, in creeds, in theses, in words ; but not in the 
actual conceptions of men, not in their heartfelt belief. 
From the days when Tertullian complained in the 
second century, that the common people would not 
receive this doctrine, and down through all the ages 
of seeming assent, and to this very day, I believe that 
it has ever been the same dead letter. And when 
Christianity has fairly thrown off this incumbrance, as 
I believe it will, I have no doubt that many will say, 
what not a few are saying now, " We never did believe 
in the Trinity ; we always felt that the Son was inferior 
to the Father who sent him." 

But how then. I may be asked, does it come to pass, 
that this doctrine is honestly and earnestly maintained 
by a great many able and learned men, to be accordant 
with the teachings of Scripture? Because, I answer, 
that, on a certain theory of interpretation, there is a 
great deal of proof for it from Scripture ; while upon 
another and true principle, I firmly believe that there 
is none at all. 

Let me invite the reader's attention, for a few moments, 
to ihe consideration of this point ; the true principle of 
interpretation. My own conviction is, that it settles the 
whole question ; but at any rate, I cannot, in this cursory 
view which I am taking, go over the ground of the 
whole argument ; and therefore I shall confine myself 
to the most material point at issue. 

We must all have seen by this time — indeed, I think 
the whole Christian world must have perceived, how 
impossible it is to settle any question from the Scrip- 
tures, by bare textual discussion. Texts maybe arrayed 
against texts, and have been for ages, and might be, 
from any mass of writings like the Scriptures ; they 
might be, and have been, thus arrayed by the parties 



ON THE TRINITY. 



61 



to every religious controversy, with very little tendency 
to produce conviction, so long as the true principle of 
their interpretation was disregarded. So long as texts 
are considered by themselves alone, considered as inde- 
pendent passages, uncontrolled by any such principle, 
one text is as good as another ; and thus Christian 
sects have presented the strange anomaly, — the wonder 
of observers, the scorn of infidels — of being directly at 
issue on the clearest points of Christian doctrine, all 
armed with proof passages, all equally confident, and 
all with equal assurance condemning each other. 

What is to account for this phenomenon ? There 
are other causes, indeed, but I am persuaded that the 
main cause lies in the peculiarity of treatment to which 
the Scriptures have been subjected. There is doubt- 
less a superstructure of passion, prejudice, pride and 
worldly interest; but resting ostensibly, as it does, on 
the Scriptures, there must be some error touching the 
very interpretation of them. 

Let me now more distinctly state, what are the two 
principles or theories of interpretation, by which it is 
proposed to explain the language of Scripture on this 
subject. For the Trinitarian has his theory, his hu- 
manly devised theory, and his reasoning, and what he 
considers his rational principle of exposition, as much 
as the Unitarian. The difference is not, though it is 
often alleged, that the Unitarian relies more upon 
reasoning, independent of Scripture ; but, as I conceive, 
that he relies upon a more rational, a more natural, 
and a really sounder principle of interpretation. The 
Trinitarian says, — "Here are two classes of passages, 
— those which describe an inferior, and those which 
describe a superior nature. We receive both classes 
without admitting any qualification, or limitation of 
sense in either. One class of texts ascribes human 
6 



62 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



qualities to Jesus ; therefore, he is man ; another as- 
cribes divine works and offices ; therefore, he is God ; 
and we dare not explain them into what we might 
imagine to be a consistency with each other, as we 
should any other history, concerning any other person. 
We receive the contrasted portions of this history just 
as they stand ; holding it to be not our business to ex- 
plain, but only to believe." 

By this theory, undoubtedly, the Trinity can be 
proved. By this theory a double nature in Christ can 
be proved. And by this theory, do I seriously aver that 
Transubstantiation, Anthropomorphism, and irrecon- 
cilable contradictions in the divine nature can be 
proved. Transubstantiation; the doctrine that the 
sacramental bread and wine are the real body and 
blood of Christ; for while, in one class of passages, 
these elements are called bread and wine ; in another, 
doth not our Saviour say, "this is my ho&y — this is my 
blood ?" Anthropomorphism ; for while we are taught 
that God is a spirit, is he not said to have hands, eyes ; 
to walk on the earth, &c. 1 Irreconcilable contradic- 
tions in his nature ; for while we are taught that God 
is unchangeable, is he not represented as repenting, 
that he had made man ; repenting, that he had made 
Saul king? Upon what principle is it, that such 
monstrous conclusions are avoided? Upon a principle, 
I answer, that is fatal to the Trinitarian theory of in- 
terpretation. It is the principle that words are not to 
be taken by themselves in the Bible ; that limitations 
and qualifications in their meaning must be admitted, 
in order to make any sense ; that the Scriptures are, in 
this respect, to be interpreted like other books; that 
when human language is adopted as the instrument 
of a divine communication, it may fairly be presumed 
that it is subject to the laws of that instrument; and 



ON THE TRINITY. 



63 



that no other principle of criticism can save the Bible, 
or any other book, from the imputation of utter absur- 
dity and folly. 

This I understand to be the Unitarian theory of in- 
terpretation. The reader will perceive at once that 
just this difference of theory will bring out precisely 
the difference of results, that characterize these two 
classes of believers. Which, then, is the true theory ? 

It seems to me that the case speaks for itself ; that 
all common sense, all usage, all criticism, all tolerable 
commentary on the Bible, sufficiently declares which is 
the right principle. 

But let us appeal to undeniable authority ; that of 
the sacred teachers themselves ; that of the Bible in- 
terpreting itself. 

For the application of our principle of interpretation 
to the very subject before us, we have the authority of 
Jesus Christ himself ; and the application is as clear 
and decisive, as the appeal, with every Christian, must 
be final and ultimate. I allude to that most extraor- 
dinary passage, in John x. 30 — 36; most extraordi- 
nary I mean in reference to this controversy : and I 
propose to make it the subject of considerable com- 
ment and argument. 

What is the question, in the passage here referred 
to ? I answer, the very question, which is now virtu- 
ally before us; did Jesus claim to be God? What was 
the language of our Saviour? "God is my Father: I 
and my Father are one." What was the accusation 
of the Jews? "Thou blasphemest, and, being a man, 
makest thyself God:" the very allegation on which 
Trinitarianism is founded. It was once a cavil : it is 
now a creed. And now I ask, in the name of reason 
and truth and Scripture, how does our Saviour treat it ? 
His answer, be it remembered, in the first place, is a 



64 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



solemn and absolute denial of the allegation, that he 
had made himself God ! " Jesus answered them, is it 
not written in your law, I said ye are gods ? If he 
called them Gods to whom the word of God came, and 
the Scripture cannot be broken ; say ye of him whom 
the Father hath sanctified and sent into the world, 
Thou blasphemest, because I said, I am the Son of 
God ?" Our Saviour had used strong language con- 
cerning himself. He had said, "As the Father knoweth 
me, even so know I the Father ;" referring, however, 
as I suppose, not to the extent, but the certainty of 
the knowledge. He had said, " I and my father are 
one. Then the Jews took up stones to cast at him f 
they accused him of blasphemy ; they said, " thou 
makest thyself God." Jesus denies that the language 
he had used warrants the inference they drew from it. 
This is the second point. He denies their inference. 
He clearly implies, moreover, that stronger language 
still would not warrant the inference. He tells the 
cavilling Jews, that even those " to whom the word of 
God came " had been " called gods." And then, so far 
from declaring himself to be God, he speaks of himself 
as one whom God u had sanctified and sent into the 
world ;" and as, on that account, entitled to speak of 
himself in exalted terms. 

And yet, how astonishing is it, we may observe, by 
the by, that this very language, " I and my Father are 
one," concerning which, and much stronger language 
too, he had declared its insufficiency to prove him God ; 
this very language, I say, and other similar phraseology, 
is constantly quoted to prove the Supreme Deity of the 
Son of God ! Words, once caught up by gainsayers, 
and by them wrested into a charge against our Saviour, 
of assuming Divinity, and denied by him to be any 
legitimate proof of such an allegation, now help to 



ON THE TRINITY. 



65 



support the faith of multitudes in this very allegation, 
as a portion, and a most essential portion, of the Chris- 
tian doctrine ! 

I say that our Saviour appeals to a principle of 
interpretation. Those, in ancient times, "to whom the 
word of God came," were men, ordinary men ; and 
when they were called gods, this language was limited 
in its force by their known character. No one could 
think of taking this language for what it meant by 
itself considered, and without any qualification. But 
our Saviour was an extraordinary personage, and he 
argues that words of much loftier import might be 
applied to him, without furnishing any warrant for the 
inference, that he was God ; and he absolutely contra- 
dicts the inference. 

Let us now apply in another way the reasoning with 
which our Saviour confounded the Jews. 

I suppose it will be admitted that the words " I and 
my Father are one," do not prove our Saviour to be 
God ; since he himself expressly disallows the inference. 
Now, is there any language in the Bible concerning 
Christ, that is stronger than this ? Is there any of all 
the proof texts, that is stronger ? I confess that I know 
of none. This is the very language of the popular 
creed ; not that the Father and the Son are two Gods, 
but that they are one. And so exactly does it express 
the Orthodox belief, that notioithstanding our Saviour's 
disclamation, it is constantly used to convey the idea 
that he was God. His disclamation, however, settles 
the matter entirely. And I suppose that an intelligent 
reasoner on the Trinitarian side, would say, — " It is 
true the words here used do not prove Jesus to be 
God. Still, however, he may be God. He was reason- 
ing with the Jews on a particular charge. The charge 
was, that he had, by the language he used, made 



66 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



himself God. He simply denies that this particular 
language warrants their inference. " Is not this, 
however, at the least, a very extraordinary supposition ? 
It makes our Saviour say with himself, " True, I am 
God, and being so, I have used language very naturally 
expressive of that fact. However, I can reason it 
away with these people, on the ground of their own 
Scriptures, and I will do so. I am God, indeed ; but I 
will deny this inference of the Jews, though it amounts 
to the exact truth. I will deny it, though I thereby 
mislead them altogether and infinitely, as to my true 
character." This, I say, would be our Saviour's 
reasoning with himself on the Trinitarian hypothesis. 
But the truth is, this supposition, improper and incred- 
ible as it is, will not save the doctrine. Because this 
language, which our Saviour declares insufficient to 
prove him God, is, in fact, as strong as any language 
that the advocates of that doctrine adduce. If this 
language does not fairly prove him to be God t then no 
language in the Bible does. 

Let us suppose, to put this in another form, that the 
New Testament in all its doctrinal parts ; that is to 
say, that the Epistles had been written, and all had 
been completed before our Saviour's death ; and that 
our Trinitarians could have said to him after the 
manner of the Jews, " Thy disciples whom thou hast 
commissioned to declare the truth, make thee to be 
God." I conceive that Jesus might have given the 
same answer as he did to his Jewish accusers. He 
would say, " No ; in all writings it is common to speak 
of men according to their distinction ; nor is there any 
need, on the principles of ordinary interpretation and 
sense, of guarding and restraining the natural language 
of admiration and love. The ancient Jews were called 
gods, because the word of God came to them. And 



ON THE TRINITY. 



67 



I, on account of my Messiahship, may properly be 
spoken of, and spoken of in that character, much more 
strongly." 

But, to bind the argument more closely, and to render 
it, as I think, incontrovertible, let me add, that the 
matter which I now state is not a matter of supposi- 
tion, but of fact. Jesus is spoken of, and that fre- 
quently, in his simple character of Messiah ; that is 
to say, as inferior, as confessedly inferior, as an official 
person he is spoken of as strongly as he is anywhere. 
Observe the following language — " For by him were 
all things created that are in heaven and earth, visible 
and invisible, whether they be thrones or dominions, 
or principalities or powers, all things were created by 
him and for him, and he is before all things, and by 
him all things consist." There is no stronger language 
than this. And yet, for all this, Jesus is represented 
as dependant on the good pleasure of God. " For — 
for it pleased the Father that in him should all ful- 
ness dwell." I suppose this to be that moral creation, 
that creating anew of many souls, which Jesus by his 
doctrine has effected, together with that influence upon 
the visible kingdoms of the world, which his doctrine 
has unquestionably produced. Again : we read of Jesus 
Christ as being "far above principality and power, and 
might and dominion, and every name that is named, 
not only in this world, but in that which is to come ;" 
and again, I say, there is no stronger language than 
this. But it is expressly said, that God "set him 
above all principality," &c. How directly are we led 
back from these passages, to our Saviour's principle of 
interpretation ! And as if there should be no doubt 
about the subordinate and temporary character of this 
distinction, high as it was, we are expressly told, that 
" when the end shall come f when, according to the 



68 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



Trinitarian hypothesis, we expect to see Jesus ascend 
to his primeval dignity as God; when "all thing's shall 
be subdued unto him." lo ! " then shall he be subject 
unto him that put all things under him ; that God may 
be all in all." And as if to warrant the very principle 
of interpretation, on which I am insisting ; as if to show 
that nothing, that is said of the glory of our Saviour, 
is to be taken in derogation from the supremacy of 
God, it is said in this very connection, " But when it is 
said, all things are put under him, it is manifest that 
He is excepted who did put all things under him." As 
if it were said ; nay it is said, that nothing written con- 
cerning the greatness of Jesus is to bring into question 
the unrivalled supremacy of God. 

And let me add, that this provides us with an an- 
swer to the only objection that stands in our way. It 
may be said, that there are still passages, whose force 
is not controlled by any express qualification. I an- 
swer that it is nevertheless fairly controlled by the 
general sense of the book. The certain truth, that 
there is but one God ; the constant ascription of that 
supremacy to the Father, the constant declaration, 
that Jesus owed everything to God, justly limits the 
sense of those passages which ascribe to the Saviour 
a lofty distinction. This is according to the usage of 
all writings. Suppose that when the biographer had 
said of Bonaparte, that " his footstep shook the Con- 
tinent," or of Mr. Pitt, that he "struck a blow in 
Europe, that resounded through the world," or the 
poet, of Milton, — 

" He passed the flaming bounds of space and time, 
The living throne, the sapphire-blaze ;" 

suppose, I say, that he immediately added, and in 
every such instance added, that he did not mean to be 
taken literally — that he did not mean that the person- 



ON THE TRINITY. 



69 



age in question was a demi-god ; could anything be 
more unnatural and unnecessary? Were any writ- 
ings ever composed upon this plan ? 

What then is the conclusion at which we arrive ? 
The very objection which we are considering, in fact, 
gives up the whole argument. For it is admitted by 
this objection, that if the qualification had been con- 
stantly introduced ; that is to say, if every time that 
any lofty distinction had been ascribed to Jesus, it had 
been expressly said that "God gave him this," that 
"God had set him there:" it is admitted, I say, that by 
this constantly repeated qualification, the whole Trini- 
tarian argument would have been completely over- 
thrown. Is it possible then, for the Trinitarian expo- 
sitor, interpreting the Bible on the same principle that 
he does other books, to maintain his argument? If 
he does maintain it, I fearlessly assert, that he gives up 
the principle. The moment he feels the Trinitarian 
ground strong beneath him, that moment he abjures 
the principle in his exposition ; that moment he begins 
to say, " It is profane to interpret the Scriptures, as we 
do other books, the Scripture biography, as we do other 
biographies." 

The fact is, and I must assert it, that the Trinitarian, 
with all his assumptions of exclusive reverence for the 
Bible, does not adhere to the Bible as his opponent does. 
If he would vindicate his claim, I should be glad to 
see a little more regard for Scripture usage in his 
doxologies and ascriptions. From all pulpits, at the 
close of almost every prayer, may be heard, on any 
Sunday, formulas of expression like these ; nowhere 
to be found in the Bible ; " And to the Father, the Son, 
and the Holy Ghost, be all honour and glory :" "To the 
holy and ever-blessed Trinity ; one God, the Father, 



70 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



Son, and Holy Ghost, be equal and undivided honours 
and praises." 

And yet those who pass upon us such unscriptural 
theories, as we think them, and are constantly sway- 
ing the public mind, by using such confessedly unscrip- 
tural language, are, at the same time, perpetually 
charging us with rejecting the Bible and relying on 
our presumptuous reasonings, and with leaning, and 
more than leaning, to infidelity. 

I repeat, in close, that the question between us is a 
question of interpretation. It is a question of " what 
saith the Scripture ?" It amounts to nothing in view 
of this question, to tell me, that for many centuries the 
church has, in the body of it, believed this or that doc- 
trine. The church, by the confession of us all, has 
believed many errors, for many centuries. It is worse 
yet, contemptuously or haughtily to say, that it is un- 
likely, any great or new truth in religion is now to be 
found out. Such a principle would stop the progress 
of the age. Such a principle would have crushed the 
Reformation. Neither is our doctrine new, nor is it 
unhonoured, so far as human testimony can confer 
honour. It was the doctrine, as we firmly believe, of 
the primitive church. It has been held by many good 
men ever since. And when you come upon English 
ground ; when you retrace the bright lineage of our 
English worthies, to whom do all eyes turn as the 
brightest in that line? Whose names have become 
household words, in all the dwellings of a reading and 
intelligent community? I answer, the names of 
Newton, and Locke, and Milton. And yet Newton, 
who not only read the stars ; and Locke, who not only 
penetrated with patient study the secrets of the mind ; 
and Milton, who not only soared into the heaven of 
poetry, and " passed the sapphire blaze, and saw the 



ON THE TRINITY. 



71 



living throne all of whom read their Bibles too, and 
wrote largely upon the Scriptures ; all these, after 
laborious investigation, concurred in rejecting the doc- 
trine of the Trinity. What these men believed, is not 
to be accounted of mushroom growth. They were 
men not of parts and genius only, but men of solid and 
transcendant acquisitions and ever-during fame. I 
would not name them in the spirit of vain and 
foolish boasting. But I do say, and I would urge 
this consideration particularly ; I do say, that the ex- 
traordinary circumstance, that these three men have 
been as distinguished for their study of the Bible, as 
they have been otherwise distinguished among the 
great and learned men of England, should lead every 
man to pause, before he rejects a doctrine which they 
believed. Much more does it become men of inferior 
parts and little learning, to abstain from pouring out 
contempt and anathemas upon a doctrine which New- 
ton, and Locke, and Milton believed. 

It is to little purpose, indeed, to lift up warnings and 
denunciations, and to awaken prejudice and hostility 
against the great doctrine on which Unitarianism is 
built, the simple Unity of God ; and the entire infe- 
riority, yet glorious distinction, of Jesus, as his Son and 
Messenger. This doctrine professes to stand securely 
on the foundation of Scripture. Argument, therefore, 
not passion, must supply the only effectual weapons 
against it. If this doctrine be wrong, may God speedily 
show it ! If it be right, he will defend the right. Con- 
cerning all improper opposition, we might say to its 
opponents, in the words of Gamaliel, " Let it alone : for 
if this counsel, or this work, be of men, it will come to 
nought : but if it be of God, ye cannot overthrow it ; 
est haply ye be found, even to fight against God." 



II. 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 

For 1 determined not to know anything among you, save Jesus 
Christ and him crucified. — 1 Cor. ii. 2. 

The preeminence thus assigned to one subject of 
Christian teaching, the sufferings of Jesus, must com- 
mand for it our serious attention. It is true that Paul 
did not mean to say, that he would not speak of any- 
thing but the passion of Christ; for he did speak of 
many other things. But it is quite clear that he did 
give to this subject, in the Christian system, an im- 
portance, preeminent ; predominating over all others. 

Why did he so? Why is the death of Jesus the 
highest subject in Christianity ? Why is the cross the 
chiefest emblem of Christianity ? Why has something 
like Paul's determination always been realized in the 
Christian church ; to know nothing else? Why has 
it been celebrated, as nothing else has been celebrated? 
Why has a holy rite been especially ordained to show 
forth the death of Christ through all time ? The brief 
answer to these questions is, that the substance, the 
subject-matter of Christianity, is the character of 
Christ, as the Saviour of men ; and that the grandest 
revelation of his character and purpose was made on 
the cross. Of this revelation I am now to speak. 

In entering upon this subject I feel one serious dif- 
ficulty. It has taken such hold of the superstition of 
mankind, that it is difficult to present it in its true, 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



73 



simple, natural and affecting aspects. For this reason, 
I shall not attempt to engage your minds in the ordi- 
nary course of a doctrinal discussion. I cannot dis- 
cuss this solemn theme in a merely metaphysical man- 
ner. I cannot contemplate a death, and least of all 
the death of the Saviour, only as a doctrine. It is to 
me, I must confess, altogether another kind of influ- 
ence. It is to me, if it is anything, power and gran- 
deur ; it is something that rivets my eye and heart ; it 
is a theme of admiration and spiritual sympathy ; it 
leads me to meditation, not to metaphysics ; it is as a 
majestic example, a moving testimony, a dread sacri- 
fice, that I must contemplate it. I see in it a death- 
blow to sin ; I hear the pleading of the crucified One 
for truth and salvation, beneath the darkened heavens 
and amidst the shuddering earth ! 

I mean to say, that all this is spiritual and practical. 
It amazes me, that this great event, which is filling all 
lands and all ages, should be resolved altogether, all 
gathered and stamped into a formula of faith. It is 
every way astonishing to me, that such a speculative 
use should have been made of it ; that suffering should 
have been seized upon as a subject for metaphysical 
analysis; that the agony of the Son of God should 
have been wrested into a thesis for the theologian; 
that a death should have been made a dogma ; that 
blood should have been taken to write a creed ; that Cal- 
vary should have been made the arena of controversy. 
That the cross, whereon Jesus, with holy candour and 
meekness, prayed for his enemies, saying, " Father, for- 
give them, for they know not what they do;" that the 
cross should have been made a rack of moral torture 
for his friends, whereon, in all the valleys and upon all 
the hills of Christendom, they have been crucified by 
unkindness and exclusion; is there another such con- 
7 



74 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



tradiction ; is there another such phenomenon to be 
found, in all the strange history of the world? There 
have been martyrdoms recorded in the world's great 
story ; but when before were martyrdoms wrought into 
sharp and reproachful metaphysics ? There have been 
fields drenched with righteous blood ; there have been 
lowly and lonely valleys, like those of Piedmont and 
Switzerland, where the sighs and groans of the crushed 
and bleeding have risen and echoed among the dark 
crags that surrounded them ; but who ever thought of 
building up these dread testimonies of human suffering 
and fortitude, into systems of doctrinal speculation? 

Let me not be misunderstood. In the train of the 
world's history, as I follow it, I meet at length with a 
being, marked and singled out from all others. I read, 
in the Gospel, the wonderful account of the most won- 
derful personage, that ever appeared on earth. Nothing, 
in the great procession of ages, ever bore any com- 
parison with the majestic story that now engages my 
attention. I draw near and listen to this being, and he 
speaks as never man spake. By some strange power, 
which I never so felt before, he seems as no other mas- 
ter ever did, to speak to me. I follow him, as the course 
of his life leads me on. I become deeply interested, 
more than as for a friend, in everything he says, and 
does, and suffers. I feel the natural amazement at the 
resistance and hatred he meets with. I feel a rising 
glow in my cheek, at the indignities that are heaped 
upon him. I say with myself, " Surely, God will inter- 
pose for him !" I hear him speak obscurely of a death 
by violence ; but, like the disciples, I cannot receive it. 
I look, rather, that some horses and chariots of fire, 
shall come and bear him up to heaven. But the scene 
darkens around him ; more and more frequently fall 
from his lips, the sad monitions of coming sorrow ; he 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



75 



prepares a feast of friendship with his disciples, but he 
tells them that it is the last ; he retires thence to the 
shades of Gethsemane ; and lo ! through those silent 
shades comes the armed band ; he is taken with wicked 
hands; he is borne to the Judgment-Hall; he is in- 
vested with a bloody crown of thorns, and made to 
bear his cross amidst a jeering and insulting multitude ; 
he is stretched upon that accursed tree ; he expires in 
agony. Oh ! where are now the hopes, that he would 
do some great thing for the world ! He seemed as one, 
who would save the world, and lo ! he is crucified and 
slain ! He seemed to hold in his bosom the great re- 
generative principle ; he knew what was in man and 
what man wanted ; he appeared as the hope of the 
world ; and where now is that hope ? Buried, in- 
tombed, quenched in the dark and silent sepulchre. 
All is over ; all, to my worldly view, is ended. I wander 
away from the scene in hopeless despair. I fall in 
company, as the narrative leads me on, with two of 
the scattered disciples going to Emmaus. And as we 
talk of these things, one joins us in our walk, and asks 
us what are these sad communings of ours. And we 
say, " Art thou only a stranger in Jerusalem, and hast 
not known the things which are come to pass there in 
these days ? And he says, what things ? And we 
answer, concerning Jesus of Nazareth. Then ex- 
pounds he to us the Scriptures ; and says, ought not 
Christ to have suffered these things and to enter into 
his glory ? " In fine, he reveals himself unto us, and 
then vanishes away. And we say, " Did not our hearts 
burn within us, while he talked with us by the way, 
and while he opened to us the Scriptures ? " 

In short, it is at this point, that a new view enters 
my mind of the sufferings of Jesus. The worldly 
views all pass away; the worldly views of death and 



76 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



defeat, of ignominy and ruin ; and I see that through 
death it was, that Jesus conquered. I see that his 
dying, even more than his living, is a ministration of 
power, and light, and salvation to the world. I see 
that that ignominy is glory ; that those wounds are 
fountains of healing ; that the cross, hitherto branded 
as the accursed tree, fit only for the execution of the 
vilest culprits, has become the emblem of everlasting 
honour. 

Now, therefore, the death of Jesus becomes to me 
the one great revelation. I determine to know nothing 
else ; nothing in comparison with it ; nothing is of 
equal interest. All the glory of Christ's example, all 
the graciousness of his purposes, shines most brightly 
on the cross. It is the consummation of all, the finish- 
ing of all. The epitaph of Jesus, is the epitome of 
Christianity. The death of Jesus, is the life of the 
world. 

In saying this, I wish to utter no theological dogma, 
which shall be respectfully received as a mere dogma. 
I simply express what is, upon my own mind, the natu- 
ral impression. I stand by the cross of Jesus ; for no 
intervening ages can weaken the power of that mani- 
festation ; and what is its language to me 1 I will 
suppose myself to stand alone by that cross ; I will 
suppose that I have never heard of any theological 
systems ; I stand in the simplicity of the elder time, 
before any systems were invented. And what now is 
the first feeling that enters my mind, as I gaze upon 
that Sufferer ? 

t. I think I shall state the natural impression, taking 
into account all that I have known of Jesus, when I say 
that the first feeling is, that I am a sinner. It is ever 
the tendency of human guilt, on witnessing any great 
catastrophe, to exclaim, " I am a sinner." But this is 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



77 



not a catastrophe without an explanation. Let us see 
if my feeling is not right. I have heard all that Jesus 
has said of the supreme evil, that sin is. I have seen 
how that one conviction rested upon his mind, and 
breathed out in all his teachings, that nothing beside 
is comparatively an evil. I have seen that it was on 
this very account, that he came on a mission of pity 
from the Father of mercies. I have heard all that he 
has said ; my heart has been probed by his words, and 
I involuntarily exclaim, as I see him suspended on the 
cross, " Ah ! sinful being that I am ; that such an one 
should suffer for me. It is I that deserved to suffer ; 
but God hath made him the propitiation for my sins. 
Could nothing else set forth before me the curse of sin ? 
Could no other hand bear the burden of my redemption 7 
Truly, I have sinned against the gracious Father of 
my existence ; I always knew it ; I always felt that I 
had ; but how is it shown to me now, when the love 
and pity of the infinite Father appears in this ; that he 
spared not his own Son, but gave him to die for me. 
Oh ! sore and bitter to abide are pains and wounds ; 
cherished in heaven are the sufferings of martyred 
innocence ! how then does every pain of Jesus awaken 
the pain of conscious guilt in my mind ! how does every 
wound reveal a deeper wound in my soul ! I will re- 
pent me now, if I never would before. I will resist, I 
can resist no longer. I will be crucified to sin, and sin 
shall be crucified to me. I will bathe the cross of Jesus 
with the tears of penitence. God, who hast interposed 
for me, help me to die daily unto sin, and to live unto 
righteousness !" 

It is in this connexion, if anywhere, that we must 
give a few moments' attention to the doctrinal expla- 
nation of the atonement. I have indeed remonstrated 
against the speculative use of this subject, but the state 
7* 



78 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



of the public mind makes it necessary, perhaps, that 
something should be said of the theory of the atone- 
ment. 

I understand this, then, to be the state of the ques- 
tion. Two leading views of the sacrifice of Christ 
divide the Christian world. The one regards it as an 
expedient ; the other as a manifestation. According 
to the first view, the sacrifice of Christ is usually repre- 
sented either as the suffering of a penalty, or as the 
payment of a debt, or as the satisfaction of a law. It 
is something that either turns God's favour towards us, 
or makes it proper for him to show favour. It is some 
new element, or some new expedient introduced into 
the divine government, without which it is impossible 
to obtain forgiveness. This, I understand to be, in 
general and in substance, the Calvinistic view. The 
other view regards the suffering of Christ, as simply a 
manifestation. It is not a purchase, or procurement, 
but a manifestation of God's love and pity and willing- 
ness to forgive. It is not the enfranchisement, from 
some legal bond, of God's mercy ; but the expression, the 
out-flowing of that mercy which was forever free. It 
was a satisfaction not to the heart of reluctant justice, 
but of abounding grace. The divine displeasure against 
sin, indeed, was manifested ; for how costly was the 
sacrifice for its removal ; but not a displeasure that 
must burn against the sinner till some expedient was 
found to avert it. 

Now the view of manifestation is the one which we 
adopt ; and certainly many of the more modern Ortho- 
dox explanations come to the same thing. They still 
proceed, it is true, upon the presumption that this mani- 
festation was intrinsically necessary ; that sin could not 
have been forgiven without it ; that the authority of 
God's law could not have been otherwise upholden. I 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



79 



certainly eannot take this view of the subject. I can- 
not undertake to say what it was possible or proper for 
the Almighty to do. I can only wonder at the pre- 
sumption of those, who do profess thus to penetrate 
into the fathomless counsels of the Infinite Govern- 
ment. I read in the Gospel, it is true, of a necessity 
for the sufferings of Christ ; but I understand it to be 
founded in prophecy, which must be fulfilled ; founded 
in the moral purposes of his mission ; founded in the 
wisdom of God. I read, that God is the justifier of him 
that believeth in Jesus, of him that is penitent and 
regenerate ; that is, God treats him as if he were just : 
in other words, shows favour to him ; bestows pardon 
and mercy upon him. And of this mercy Jesus, the 
sufferer, is the great and all-subduing manifestation. 

I cannot here go into the details of Interpretation. 
It is perplexed by reasonings of the Apostles about the 
relations of Jews and Gentiles, by analogies to the 
Jewish sacrifices, by the language and speculations of 
an ancient time ; by difficulties, in short, that require 
much study and learning for their clearing up, and 
demand no solution at th^ hand of plain and unlearned 
persons, who are simply seeking for their salvation. 
This profound criticism, in short, is a subject for a 
volume, rather than for a sermon. 

But I will present to you, in accordance with a fre- 
quent practice of theologians, a single illustration, 
which, if you will carry into the New Testament, you 
will see, I believe, that it explains most of the language 
you will find there. 

Suppose, then, that a father, in a distant part of the 
country, had a family of sons, all dear to him. Sup- 
pose that all of them, save one, who remained at home 
with him, had wandered away into the world to seek 
their fortunes, and that in the prosecution of that de- 



80 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



sign, they had come to one of our cities. Suppose that, 
in process of time, they yield to the temptations that 
surround them, and become dissolute and abandoned, 
and are sunk into utter misery ; first one, and then 
another, till all are fallen. From time to time, dark 
and vague rumours had gone back to their country- 
home, that all was not well ; and their parent had 
been anxious and troubled. He thought of it in sleep- 
less nights ; but what could he do ? He desired one 
and another of his neighbours, sroino- down to the great 
city, to see his sons, and tell him of their estate. On 
their return they speak to him in those reserved and 
doubtful terms, that sear a parent's heart : one mes- 
senger after another speaks in this manner ; till at 
length, evasion is no longer possible, and the father 
learns the dreadful truth, that his sons are sunk into 
the depths of vice, debasement, and wretchedness. 
Then, at last, he says to his only remaining, and be- 
loved son, "Go, and save thy brethren." Let me 
observe to you here, that nothing is more common in 
the books of Divinity, than comparisons of this nature ; 
and that it is not, of course, designed to imply any- 
thing in such comparisons of the relative rank of the 
parties. The father says, " Go, and save thy brethren." 
Moved by compassion, that son comes to the great city. 
He seeks his unhappy brethren in their miserable 
haunts ; he labours for their recovery. Ere long, a 
fearful pestilence spreads itself in the city. Shall the 
heroic brother desist from his task ? No ; he labours 
on ; night and day he labours ; till, in the noisome 
abodes of vice, poverty and misery, he takes the infec- 
tious disease, and dies. He dies for the salvation of 
his brethren. 

Now what is the language of this sacrifice on the 
part of the father, what is it on the part of the son, and 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



SI 



what is it to those unhappy objects of this interposi- 
tion? 

On the part of the father, it was unspeakable com- 
passion. It was also, constructively, an expression of 
his displeasure against vice ; of the sense he enter- 
tained of the evil into which his sons had fallen. On 
the part of the son, it was a like conviction and com- 
passion, and a willingness to die for the recovery of 
his brethren. What would it be to those guilty breth- 
ren ? What would it be especially, if by dying for 
them, he recovered them to virtue, restored them to 
their father's arms, and to a happy life 7 " Ah ! our 
brother," they would say ; " He died for us ; he died 
that we might live. His blood has cleansed us from 
sin. By his stripes, by his groans, by his pains, we 
are healed. Dearly beloved brother ! we will live in 
memory of thy virtues, and in honour of thy noble 
sacrifice." Nor, my friends, is there one word of reli- 
ance or gratitude in the New Testament applied to the 
sacrifice of Jesus, which persons thus circumstanced, 
and with a Jewish education, would not apply to just 
such an interposition as we have supposed. If, then, 
we have put a case which meets and satisfies all the 
Scriptural language to be explained, have we not put 
a case that embraces the essential features of the great 
atonement ? 

II. I have now spoken of the relation of the cross 
of Christ to our sins, and to the pardon of sin. But 
we should by no means have exhausted its efficacy, 
we should by no means have show r n all the reasons of 
its preeminence in the Christian dispensation, if we 
were to stop here. Not less practical, not less momen- 
tous is its relation to our deliverance from sin. That, 
indeed, is its ultimate end, and pardon is to be obtained 
only on that condition. This idea, indeed, has been 



82 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



essentially involved in what we have already said; 
but it requires yet further to be unfolded. 

The death of Jesus is the greatest ministration ever 
known on earth to human virtue. It was intended 
not to be a relief to the conscience, but an incentive, a 
goad to the negligent conscience. 

It was not meant, because Christ has died, that 
men should roll the burden of their sin on him, and 
be at ease ; but that, more than ever, they should 
struggle with it themselves. It was designed that the 
cross should lay a stronger bond upon the conscience, 
even than the law. When I look upon the cross, I 
cannot indulge, my brethren, in sentimental or theo- 
logic strains of rapture, over reliefs and escapes ; over 
the broken bonds of legal obligation ; over a salvation 
wrought out for me, and not in me ; over a purchased 
and claimed pardon ; as if now all were easy, as if a 
commutation were made with justice ; the debt paid, 
the debtor free ; and there were nothing to do, but to 
rejoice and triumph. No ; I should feel it to be base 
and ungenerous in me, thus to contemplate sufferings 
and agonies endured for my salvation. The cross is 
a most majestic and touching revelation of solemn and 
bounden duty. It makes the bond stronger, not 
weaker. It reveals a harder, not an easier way to be 
saved. That is to say, it sets up a stricter, not a looser 
law for the conscience. Every particle of evil in the 
heart, is now a more lamentable and gloomy burden, 
than it ever was before. The cross sets a darker stamp 
upon the malignity of sin, than the table of the com- 
mandments ; and it demands of us, in accents louder 
than Sinai's thunder, sympathetic agonies to be freed 
from sin. 

The cross, I repeat, is the grand ministration to 
human virtue. It is a language to all lonely and neg- 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



83 



lected, or slighted and persecuted virtue. Often do 
we stand in situations where that cross is our dearest 
example and friend. It is, perhaps, beneath the hum- 
ble roof, where the great world passes us by, and nei- 
ther sees nor knows us; where no one blazons our 
patience, our humility, cheerfulness and disinterested- 
ness, to the multitude that is ever dazzled with out- 
ward splendour. There must we learn of him, who for 
us was a neglected wanderer, and had not even where 
to lay his head. There must we learn of him, who 
was meek and lowly in heart, and find rest unto our 
souls. There must we learn of him, who bowed that 
meek and lowly head upon the cross ; dishonoured 
before a passing multitude, honoured before all ages. 
Or we stand, perhaps, beneath the perilous eye of ob- 
servation, of an observation not friendly, but hostile 
and scornful. We stand up for our integrity, we 
stand for some despised and persecuted principle in re- 
ligion, or morals, or science. And it is hard to bear 
opprobrium and injury for this ; hard for the noblest 
testimony of our conscience, to bear the worst inflic- 
tion of human displeasure. The dissenting physician, 
the dissenting philanthropist, the dissenting Christian, 
knows full well how hard it is. And there, keeping 
there our firm stand, must we look upon that cross, 
whereon hung one who was despised and rejected of 
men ; the scorned of earth, the favoured and beloved 
of heaven. That stand for conscience, kept firmly, 
humbly, meekly, we must learn, is not mean and low ; 
it is the very grandeur of life ; it is the magnificence 
of the world. It is a world of misconstruction, of in- 
jury, of persecution : that cross is lifted up to stay our 
fainting courage, to fix our wavering fidelity, to inspire 
us with meekness, patience, forgiveness of enemies, 
and trust in God. 



84 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



Again, the cross is a language to all tempted and 
struggling virtue. Jesus was tempted in all points as 
we are, yet without sin. Thou too art tempted. In 
high estate as well as in low, thou art tempted. Nay, 
and the misery and peril of the case is, that all estates 
are becoming low with thee; all is sinking around 
thee, when temptation presses thee sore. When thou 
art tempted to swerve from the integrity of thy spirit 
or of thy life, and the perilous hour draws near, and 
thou reasonest with thyself, thou art in a kind of de- 
spair. Thou sayest that friends desert thee, and the 
world looks coldly on thee ; or thou sayest that thy 
passions are strong, and thy soul is sad, and thy state 
is unhappy, and it is no matter what befalls. Then 
it is, that to thy tempted and discouraged virtue Jesus 
speaks, and says, " Deny the evil thought, and take up 
thy cross and follow me. Behold my agony, behold 
my desertion, behold the drops of bloody sweat ; I 
shrink in the fraily of nature, as thou dost, from the 
cup of bitterness ; I pray that it may pass from me ; but 
I do not refuse it. There is worse to fear than pain, — 
guilt ; failure in the great trial ; the prostration of all 
thy nobleness before the base appliance of a moment's 
gratification ; ay, the pain of all thy after life, for an 
hour's pleasure. Learn of me, that virtue does not 
always repose on a bed of roses. Oh ! no ; sharp 
pangs ; sharp nails ; piercing thorns, are for me ; 
wonder not thou, then, at the fiery trial in thy soul ; 
my sufferings emblem thine, so let my triumph : all 
can be endured for victory, holy victory, immortal 
victory." 

Once more ; the cross appeals to all heroic and lofty 
virtue. Let me say heroic ; though that word is 
scarcely yet found in the Christian's vocabulary. But 
in the Christian's life there is to be a heroism. He is 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



85 



to feel as one who has undertaken a lofty enterprise. 
He has entered upon a sublime work. It is his being's 
task, and trial, and triumph. We think too poorly of 
what a Christian life is. We hold it to be too common- 
place. There is nothing heroic or lofty, as to the 
principle, in all history, in all the majestic fortunes of 
humanity, but is to come into the silent strife of every 
Christian's spirit. 

Now to this, the example of the crucified Saviour, 
is an emphatic appeal. The cross is commonly repre- 
sented as humbling to the human heart ; it is so to 
the worldly pride of the human heart ; but it is also 
to that heart, an animating, soul-thrilling, ennobling 
call. It speaks to all that is sacred, disinterested, self- 
sacrificing in humanity. I fear that we regard Christ's 
sacrifice for us so technically, that we rob it of its vital 
import. It was a painful sacrifice for us, as truly as 
if our brother had died for us ; it was a bitter and 
bloody propitiation, to bring back offending man to his 
God ; it was a groan for human guilt and misery that 
rent the earth ; it was a death endured for us, that we 
might live, and live forever. I speak not one word of 
this technically ; I speak vital truth. Even if Jesus 
had died as any other martyr dies ; if he had thought 
of nothing but his own fidelity, had thought of nothing, 
but bearing witness to the truth ; still the call would, 
by inference, have come to us. But it is not left to in- 
ference. Jesus was commissioned to bear this very re- 
lation to the world. He knew that if he were lifted 
up, he should draw all men to him. And how draw 
all men to him ? Plainly, in sympathy, in imitation, 
in love. He designed to speak to all ages, to touch all 
the high and solemn aspirations of unnumbered mil- 
lions of souls ; to win the world to the noble spirit of 
self-sacrifice ; to disinterestedness, and fortitude, and 
8 



86 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



patience ; to meekness and candour, and gentleness and 
forgiveness of injuries. This is the heroism of Chris- 
tianity. In these virtues, centres all true glory. This 
did Jesus mean to illustrate. His purpose was, to turn 
off the eyes of men from the power, pride, ambition 
and splendour of the world, to the true grandeur, dig- 
nity and all-sufficing good of love, meekness and disin- 
terestedness. And how surely have his purposes and 
predictions been accomplished ! A renovating power 
has gone forth from him upon the face of the whole 
civilized world, and is fast spreading itself to the ends 
of the earth. And one emphatic proof of this is, that 
the cross, before the stigma of the vilest crimes, has 
become the emblem of all spiritual greatness. 

At the risk of wearying your patience, my brethren, 
let me invite you to a brief consideration of one other 
relation of the cross of Christ ; I mean its relation to 
human happiness. It shall be a closing and a brief 
one. 

Jesus was a sufferer : and yet so filled was his mind 
with serenity and joy, that the single instance, in 
which we read that he wept, seems to open to us a 
new light upon his character. Jesus was a patient, 
cheerful, triumphant sufferer. The interest, which in 
this light his character possesses for the whole human 
race, has never, it appears to me, been sufficiently il- 
lustrated. 

We are all sufferers. At one time or another, in 
one way or another, we all meet this fate of humanity. 
So true is this, and so well do we know it to be true, 
that it would be only too painful to open the wide vo- 
lume of proofs which life is continually furnishing. 
It is really necessary to lay restraint upon our thoughts, 
when speaking of the pains and afflictions of life. I 
know it is often said, that the pulpit is not sufficiently 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



87 



exciting. But how easy were it, to make it more so ! 
A thoughtful man will often feel, that instead of cau- 
tiously and considerately touching the human heart, 
he might go into that heart, with swords and knives, 
to cut, to wound, and almost to slay it, if such were 
his pleasure. "What if he were to describe suffering 
infancy, or a sick and dying child, or the agony of 
parental sorrow, or manhood in its strength, or ma- 
tronage in its beauty, broken down under some inflic- 
tion, touching the mind or the body, to more than in- 
fant weakness ; who could bear it ? Yes ; it is the 
lot of humanity to suffer. No condition, no guarded 
palace, no golden shield, can keep out the shafts of 
calamity. And especially it is the lot of intellectual 
life to suffer. As man becomes properly man ; as his 
mind grapples with its ordained probation ; the dis- 
pensation naturally presses harder upon him. The 
face of careless childhood may be arrayed with per- 
petual smiles ; but behold, how the brow of manhood, 
and the matronly brow, grows serious and thoughtful, 
as years steal on ; how the cheek grows pale, and 
what a meaning is set in the depths of many an eye 
around you ; all proclaiming histories, long histories 
of care and anxiety, and disappointment and afflic- 
tion ! 

Now into this overshadowed world, One has come, 
to commune with suffering ; to soothe, to relieve, to 
conquer it : himself a sufferer, himself acquainted with 
grief, himself the conqueror of pain ; himself made 
perfect through sufferings ; and teaching us to gain 
like virtue and victory. For in all this, I see him ever 
calm, patient, cheerful, triumphant. 

And what a touching aspect does all this strong and 
calm endurance lend to his afflictions. For he was 
afflicted, and his soul was sometimes " sorrowful, even 



88 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



unto death." When I read, that at the grave of Laza- 
rus, " Jesus wept ;" when I hear him say, in the gar- 
den of Gethsemane, " Father, if it be possible, remove 
this cup from me ;" when from the cross arose that 
piercing cry, " My God, my God, why hast thou for- 
saken me ?" I know that he suffered. I know that 
loneliness, and desertion, and darkness were upon his 
path ; I feel that sorrow and fear sometimes touched, 
with a passing shade, that seraphic countenance. 

But oh ! how divinely does he rise above all ! What 
a peculiarity was there in the character of this wonder- 
ful Being ; the rejected, the scorned, the scourged, the 
crucified : and yet no being was ever so considerate 
towards the faults of his friends, as he was towards 
the hostility of his very enemies ; no being was ever 
so kindly and compassionate in spirit ; so habitually 
even and cheerful in temper ; so generous and gracious 
in manner. I cannot express the sense I have of his 
equanimity, of his gentleness, of the untouched beauty 
and sweetness of his philanthropy, of the unapproach- 
ed greatness of his magnanimity and fortitude. He 
looked through this life, with a spiritual eye, and saw 
the wise and beneficent effect of suffering. He 
looked up with confiding faith to a Father in heaven ; 
he looked through the long and blessed ages beyond 
this life ; and earth, with all its scenes and sorrows, 
shrunk to a point, amidst the all-surrounding infinity 
of truth and goodness, and heaven. 

Thus, my brethren, has he taught us how to suffer. 
He has resolved that dark problem of life ; how that 
suffering, in the long account, may be better than ease ; 
and poverty, better than riches ; and desertion, better 
than patronage ; and mortification, better than ap- 
plause ; and disappointment, better than success ; and 
martyrdom, better than all honours of a sinful life ; 



ON THE ATONEMENT. 



S9 



and how, therefore, that suffering is to be met with a 
brave and manly heart, with a sustaining faith, with 
a cheerful courage ; counting it all joy, and making it 
all triumph. 

Thus have I attempted ; and I feel that I ought not 
to detain you longer; I have attempted, however im- 
perfectly, to unfold the intent for which Jesus suffered ; 
to unfold the import and teaching of the cross of 
Christ to human guilt, to human virtue, and to human 
happiness. May you know more of the truth as it is 
in Jesus, than words can utter, or worldly heart con 
ceive ! And may the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ 
be with you always. Amen. 



8* 



III. 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 

The celebrated Jive points of Calvinism are the 
following ; total depravity, election, particular redemp- 
tion, irresistible grace, and the final perseverance of 
saints. It has been justly observed, that "the two first 
only are fundamental doctrines ; the three last neces- 
sary consequences." The consequences, however, are 
none the less liable to their separate and particular 
objections. But as I propose to confine myself to ques- 
tions at issue between Orthodox and Liberal Christians, 
I shall not think it necessary to offer anything more 
than a passing remark or two, on the doctrines of par- 
ticular redemption, and the saints' perseverance. 

Particular redemption, or the limitation of the atone- 
ment, boih in its design and efficacy, to the elect, is a 
doctrine which has long since been discarded by the 
Congregation alists of this country. Indeed, these 
churches are about as improperly called Calvinistic, 
as they are, in common parlance among the mass of 
our people, denominated Presbyterian. It is worth 
while to remark, though it be only for the sake of 
correcting a verbal inaccuracy, that there are net 
above a dozen or twenty Presbyterian churches in all 
New England ; the word Presbyterian properly stand- 
ing for a form of church government, not for a fa ;+ h. 
And it is more important to observe, for the sake of 
correcting an error in the minds of the people, that 
there is probably, in strictness of speech, not one Calvin- 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 



91 



istic Church in the ancient dominion of the Puritans. 
Every one of the Jive points has been essentially 
modified, has been changed from what it originally 
was. 

But to return ; the doctrine of particular redemption 
deserves to be noticed, as an instance of that attempt 
at mathematical precision, which, as I think, is a dis- 
tinguishing trait of Calvinism, and which has done so 
much harm to the theological speculations of this 
country. I shall have occasion to refer to this kind of 
reasoning again. In the instance before us, it appears 
in the following statement. Sinners, it was said, had 
incurred a debt to divine justice ; they owed a certain 
amount of suffering. Jesus Christ undertook, in behalf 
of the elect, to pay this debt. Now, if he had suffered 
more, paid more, than was necessary to satisfy this 
particular demand, there would have been a waste of 
suffering, a waste of this transferable merit. But there 
was no such waste ; the suffering exactly met the de- 
mand ; and therefore the redemption was particular ; 
it was limited to the elect ; no others could be saved, 
without another atonement. This was, once, theologi- 
cal reasoning ! And to dispute it, was held to be 
intolerable presumption. Such presumption severed, 
for a time, the New England churches from their 
southern brethren. Such a dispute, with one or two 
others like it, has rended the Presbyterian Church 
asunder. 

Let us now say a word on the doctrine of the saints' 
perseverance. If you separate from this the idea of an 
irresistible grace, impelling, and, as it were, compelling 
Christians to persevere in piety and virtue, there is 
little, perhaps, to object to it. It is so separated in the 
present Orthodox belief, and therefore, it is scarcely a 
question in controversy. We all believe, that a man. 



92 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



who has become once thoroughly and heartily inter- 
ested in the true Gospel, doctrine, character and glory 
of Jesus Christ, is very likely to persevere and grow in 
that interest. I confess, that my own conviction on 
this point is very strong, and scarcely falls short of any 
language in which the doctrine of perseverance is de- 
clared. I can hardly conceive, how a man, who has 
once fully opened his eyes upon that " Light," should 
ever be willing to close them. And I believe, that in 
proportion as the Gospel is understood and felt, felt in 
all its deep fountains of peace and consolation, under- 
stood in all its revelations and unfoldings of purity and 
moral beauty ; that in proportion to this, the instances 
of "falling away," whether into infidelity or worldliness, 
will be more and more rare. I am aware, however, 
and think it ought to be said, that the common state- 
ments of the doctrine of perseverance are dangerous to 
the unreflecting and to the speculative. The truth is, 
that we ought to have nothing to do with perseverance 
as a doctrine, and everything with it, as a fact. Good 
men shall persevere ; good Christians, above all, shall 
persevere ; but let them remember that they can do so, 
only by constant watchfulness, endeavour, self-denial, 
prayer, fidelity. 

I shall now take up the more important subjects 
named at the head of this article. 

The first is total depravity, including, of course, the 
position that this depravity is native. 

I shall say nothing, in the few brief hints I have 
now to offer, of the practical views, which we all ought 
deeply to consider, of the actual depravity of man. I 
am concerned, at present, then, only with the specula- 
tive and abstract doctrine of native, total depravity. 
And I am anxious, in the first place, to state it, in such 
a manner, as shall be unexceptionable to its most 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 



93 



scrupulous advocate. It is not, then, according to 
modern explanations, that man is unable to be good ; 
or that he is as bad as he can be ; or that his natural 
appetites, sympathies and instincts are originally bad. 
I have known the distinction to be put in this way ; 
that man is totally depraved, in the theological sense 
of those w^ords, but not in the common and classical 
sense of them, as they are used in our English litera- 
ture, and in ordinary conversation : a very good dis- 
tinction, but a very bad precedent and principle for all 
fair reasoning. For if men are allowed to apply to 
common w T ords this secret, technical, theological mean- 
ing, their speculations can neither be understood, nor 
met, nor subjected to the laws of common sense. It is 
not safe in moral reasonings, to admit tw T o kinds of 
depravity, or two kinds of goodness. Men w T ill be too 
ready to find out, that it is easier to be good, according 
to one theory of goodness, than according to another. 
And, it has too often come to pass, that regenerated 
and sanctified — the theological words — have not meant, 
pure, humble, amiable, and virtuous. And so, on the 
other hand, a. man may much more easily and calmly 
admit that he is depraved, in the theological, than in 
the common sense. And in making this distinction, 
he deprives himself of one of the most po werful means 
of conviction. There is a great deal of truth in that 
theory of moral sentiments, though it does not go to 
the bottom of the subject, which maintains that a man 
learns to condemn and reproach himself, through sym- 
pathy w T ith that feeling of others, which condemns and 
reproaches him. But of this, by his peculiar and secret 
idea of depravity, the reasoner in question deprives 
himself. And hence it is, that such a man can talk 
loudly and extravagantly of his own depravity. It is 
because he does not use that word in the ordinary sense, 



94 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



nor feel the reproach that attaches to it. It is hence 
that congregations can calmly and indifferently listen 
to those charges of utter depravity, which, if received 
in their common acceptation, would set them on fire 
with resentment. 

But the distinction does not much tend, after all, to 
help the matter, as a doctrine, though it does tend so 
nearly to neutralize it as a conviction ; because, it is 
still contended, that the theological sense is the true 
sense. When the advocate of this doctrine says, that 
men are utterly depraved, he means that they are so, in 
the only true, in the highest sense of those words. And 
when he says, that this depravity is native, he means 
to fix the charge, not indeed, upon the whole nature of 
man, not upon his original appetites and sympathies, 
but upon his highest, his moral nature. He means to 
say, that his moral nature — and nothing else, strictly 
speaking, can be sinful or holy — that his moral nature 
produces nothing but sin ; that all which can sin in 
man does sin, and does nothing but sin, so long as it 
follows that tendency which comes from his nature. 
He means to say, that sin is as truly and certainly the 
fruit of his moral nature, as thought is the fruit of his 
mental nature. And it makes no difference to say 
that he sins freely, for it is just as true that he thinks 
freely. In fact, he is not free to cease from doing 
either. In this view, indeed, depravity comes nothing 
short of an absolute inability to be holy. For if the 
moral constitution of man is such, as naturally to pro- 
duce nothing but sin, I see not how he can any more 
help sinning, than he can help thinking. I do not for- 
get that it is said, that man has the moral power to be 
holy ; for I am glad to admit any modification in the 
statement of the doctrine. But, in fact, what does it 
amount to ? What is a moral power to be good, but a 
disposition to be so ? And if no such disposition is 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 



95 



allowed to belong to human nature, I see not in what 
intelligible sense any power can belong to it.* 

I will not pursue this definition of human depravity 
farther into those metaphysical distinctions and subtil- 
ties, to which it would lead. But I would now ask 
the reader, as a matter of argument, whether he can 
believe, that the simple and practical teachers of our 
religion ever thought of settling any of these nice and 
abstruse questions ? For it is not enough for Orthodox 
believers on this point, that we admit the Scripture 
writers to have represented human depravity as ex- 
ceedingly great and lamentable ; that they undoubt- 
edly did ; but the Orthodox interpreter insists, that 
they meant to represent it, with metaphysical exact- 
ness, as native and total. He insists, that they meant 
just so much. That they meant a great deal, I repeat, 
is unquestionable ; that they used phraseology of a 
strong and unlimited character, is admitted ; but to 
draw from writings, so marked with solemn earnest- 
ness and feeling, certain precise and metaphysical 
truths; to extract dogmas from the -bold and heart- 
burning denunciations of prophets ; to lay hold of 
weapons of controversy in the sorrowful and indignant 
reproaches of those, who wept over human wickedness, 
seems to me preposterous. Surely, if any one of us 
were speaking of some very iniquitous practice, of some 
abominable traffic, or of some city or country whose 
wickedness cried to heaven, we should speak strongly, 
we should exhaust our language of its strongest epi- 

*I believe that this is still the prevailing view of human depravity : 
but I should not omit, perhaps, to notice that, since these essays 
were written, another modification of the doctrine has been pro- 
posed. It is, that sin is not the necessary result of man's moral 
constitution, but the invariable result of his moral condition. 
There is little to choose. In either case, sin, and sin only, is in- 
evitably bound up with human existence. 



96 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



thets ; it would be perfectly natural to do so : but, 
as surely, the last thing, we should think of, would 
be that of laying down a doctrine : the last thing we 
should think of, would be that of philosophizing, and 
propounding theoretic dogmas upon the nature of the 
soul ! And, to make the case parallel, I may add, that 
we should by no means think of charging every or any 
individual, in such a country, or city, or company, 
with total and native depravity. I know, there will 
be some to say, but they will not be the really intelli- 
gent and thinking, that our language and Scripture 
language are different things. Let them be different 
in as many respects as any one pleases ; but they must 
not be different in this. All language is to be inter- 
preted by the same general principles. He, who 
does not admit this, has not taken the first step in 
true theology, and is not to be disputed with on this 
ground ; but must be carried back to consider "what 
be the first principles" applicable to such inquiries. 

As a matter of argument, out of the Scriptures, I 
will ask but one further question, and then leave the 
subject. I ask the Calvinist to say, from what source 
he originally derived his ideas of moral qualities ; 
whence he obtained his conceptions of goodness, holi- 
ness, (fee. ? I am certain, that neither he nor any man 
has obtained these conceptions of moral qualities from 
anything but the experience of them. A man could 
no more conceive of goodness, without having felt it, 
at some moment, and to some extent, than he could 
conceive of sweetness without tasting it. No descrip- 
tion, no reasoning, no comparison could inform him 
either of the one or the other. A man does not ap- 
prove of what is right, by any reasoning ; whether 
upon utility, or the fitness of things, or upon anything 
else ; but by simple consciousness. This is the doc- 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 



97 



trine of our most approved moral philosophers. But, 
consciousness of what ? Of the qualities approved, 
plainly. A man must have a right affection before he 
can approve it, before he can know anything about it. 
Does not this settle the question ? A totally and na- 
tively depraved being could have no idea of rectitude, 
or holiness, and by consequence, no idea of the moral 
character of God. And it has, therefore, been rightly 
argued, by some who have held the doctrine we are 
discussing, that men naturally have no such ideas. 
But I will not suppose that this is a position to be con- 
tended against ; since it would follow, that men are 
commanded, on peril and pain of all future woes, to 
love a holiness and a moral perfection of God, which 
they are not merely unable to love, but of which, ac- 
cording to the supposition, they have no conception ! 

The two remaining points to be considered are elec- 
tion and irresistible grace, or the divine influence on 
the mind. I take these together, because 1 have one 
principle of scriptural interpretation to advance, which 
is applicable to them both. And as I do not remember 
to have seen it. brought forward, in discussions of this 
nature, and as it seems to me, an unquestionably just 
principle, I shall take up some space to explain it. 

It must be admitted, that very strong and pointed 
language is used in the New Testament, concerning 
election, and God's spirit or influence in the human 
heart. And I think it is apparent that the Arminian 
opposers of these doctrines have betrayed a conscious- 
ness, that they had considerable difficulties to contend 
with. They have seemed to be aware that the lan- 
guage of Scripture, which their Calvinistic adversaries 
quote, is strong, and they have shown some disposition 
to lessen its force, or to turn it into vague and general 
applications. Now, for my own part, I find no dif- 
9 



98 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



ficulty in admitting the whole force and personal bear- 
ing of these representations, though I cannot receive 
them in the form which Calvinism has given them. 
And I make this except ion, too, not because I am opposed 
to the strength and directness of the Calvinistic belief, 
but because I am opposed, in this, as in other respects, 
to the metaphysical and moral principles of the system. 
In short, I believe in personal election, and the in- 
fluence of the Almighty Spirit on the mind : and this, 
or what amounts to this, 1 suspect all Christians be- 
lieve. For, an " elect; n of communities," as some 
interpret it, is still an election of the individuals that 
compose them. And an " election to privileges," as 
others prefer to consider it, is still making a distinction, 
and a distinction on which salvation depends. If it 
be said that an "election to privileges" saves the doc- 
trine of human freedom ; so, I answer, must any elec- 
tion save the doctrine of human freedom, but that of 
the fatalist. And the same may be said of divine in- 
fluence. 

Let us, then, go to the proposed principle of interpre- 
tation, which, I confess, relieves my own mind, and I 
hope it may other minds. 

I say, then, that the apostles wrote for their subject. 
It is a well established principle among the learned, 
though too little applied, that the apostles wrote for 
their age ; with particular reference, that is, to the 
circumstances of their own times. I now maintain, 
in addition to this, that they ivrote for their subject. 
Their subject, their exclusive subject, was religion ; 
and the principles of the divine government, which they 
apply to this subject may be equally applicable to 
everything else. Their not saying, that these prin- 
ciples have such an application, does not prove that 
they have not ; because they wrote for their subject, 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 99 



and it was not their business to say so. In other 
words, God's government is infinite ; and they speak 
but of one department of it. His foreknowledge and 
his influence are unbounded ; they speak of this fore- 
knowledge and influence, but in one single respect. 
But instead of limiting the application of their prin- 
ciples to this one department and this one respect, the 
inference would rather be, that they are to be extended 
to everything. And in fact this extension of the prin- 
ciple Avith regard to election — in one instance, and I 
believe, only one — is hinted at, where the apostle says, 
that Christians are "predestinated according to the 
purpose of him, ivho ivorketh all tilings, after the 
counsel of his own will? If this be true, then, every- 
thing is a matter of divine counsel ; everything is 
disposed of by election. And men are as much elected 
to be philosophers, merchants, or inhabitants of this 
country or that country, as they are elected to be Chris- 
tians. If this is election, I believe there will be found 
no difficulty in it; save what exists in that inscruta- 
bleness of the subject, which must forbid our expect- 
ing ever to fathom it. 

It will be apparent from this view, in what I differ 
from Calvinists. They make that foreknowledge and 
purpose of God, which relate to the religious characters 
of men, a peculiarity in the divine government. Con- 
necting the doctrine of election, as they do, with that 
of special grace, they leave an impression unfavourable 
to human exertion, and to the divine impartiality. 
But I maintain, without denying the general difficul- 
ties of the subject, that the religious part of the char- 
acter is no more the result of the divine prescience and 
purpose, than any other part ; and Ave have no more 
reason to perplex ourselves Avith this department of 
the divine government, than with any other. 



100 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



Our principle admits of a fuller illustration on the 
subject of divine influence. I say that the apostles 
wrote for their subject, and wrote so exclusively for it, 
that no inference is to be raised, from their silence, 
against applying their principles to other subjects. And 
I will present an illustration of this argument, to which 
no one who respects the authority of Scripture, can 
object. Look, then, at the inspired writers of old. 
Writing as they did, under a long established form and 
dispensation of religion, they took a freer and wider 
range of subjects. And thus they extended the doc- 
trine of divine influence to everything. They applied 
it much more frequently to outward things, than to 
the mind ; and much more frequently to the common 
business of life, than to religion. Nay, they asserted 
the necessity of this influence, in the common affairs 
of life, as strongly as the New Testament writers do, 
in the spiritual concerns of religion. They as much, 
and as strongly asserted, that men could not succeed, 
in business, or in study, in agriculture, in the mechanic 
arts, or in seeking after knowledge, without God's aid 
and influence, as our Christian teachers assert, that 
men cannot grow in grace and piety, without that aid 
and influence. But, now, observe how different was 
the situation of the New Testament writers. They 
had no leisure, if I may speak so, to turn aside to the 
common affairs of life. They were obliged to put 
forth every energy for the propagation and defence of 
a new faith. They had no time, for instance, to pre- 
pare general and abstract pieces of devotion, as many 
of the Psalms are ; or books of maxims and apo- 
thegms, like the Proverbs ; or highly wrought moral 
dialogues, like the Book of Job. They had no time to 
descant on matters of speculative morality, the pru- 
dence of life, and the diversified ways of Providence. 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 101 

Religion — religion, as a matter of evidence and experi- 
ence, was the great engrossing theme. And hence 
they have spoken of that divine influence and superin- 
tendence, which really extend to all things; they have 
spoken of them, I say, especially and chiefly in rela- 
tion to religion. But it would be as unjustifiable and 
unsafe, from this circumstance, to limit the doctrine 
of divine influence to religious matters, as it would be, 
from consulting the ancient records, to limit it to out- 
ward nature, and the common affairs of life. The 
only safe rule, whether in reasoning, or for devotion, 
is to extend it to all things. 

In all this, I am aware that I am asserting nothing 
that is new. I am only attempting to free the subject 
from those difficulties, that have arisen from the pecu- 
liarity of the New Testament communications. I 
repeat it, that, in the principles, there is nothing new 
or peculiar. All good Christians have believed, and 
must believe, that the wise counsel and holy providence 
of God extend to everything. We must all believe, in 
some sense, in election and divine influence. The 
principal difficulty and danger to most minds, I suspect, 
have arisen from their attaching too much peculiarity 
to the counsel and influence of the Almighty, in the 
matters of religion. They have said, " If I am elected, 
I shall certainly be saved ; and if I am not, it is in vain 
for me to try. And if God's Spirit works within me 
the work of faith, I have nothing to do myself." Now, 
let them extend their views of this subject ; and they 
will be safe, and ought to be satisfied. But, at any rate, 
they will be safe. They will be effectually guarded 
from the abuse of these doctrines. For as no one will 
expect to be a physician, or a philosopher, without 
study, because he hopes or imagines, that he is fore- 
ordained, or will be supernaturally assisted, to gain 
9* 



102 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



eminence in these professions ; so neither will any- 
similar hope of being a Christian, and being saved, 
lessen the exertions that are suitable to that end. 
With these views of the doctrines, in question, common 
sense may be trusted to guard them from perversion. 

I said that the danger was of attaching too much 
peculiarity to that counsel and influence of God, which 
are connected with our salvation. Nevertheless, some- 
thing of this nature, I apprehend, is to be ascribed to 
them. I distrust single views of subjects. It arises, I 
believe, from the imperfection and weakness of our 
minds, that our whole mental vision is apt to be en- 
grossed with seeing a truth in one point of light. 
Separate views must be combined, to form a just and 
well-proportioned faith. This, above all things, is 
liable to be forgotten amidst the biasses of controversy. 
We may take the larger view of the subjects before us, 
and yet we may admit that God does especially inter- 
pose in behalf of religious beings, weak and tempted 
as we are. And we may admit, that it has especially 
pleased him, that it is a counsel most agreeable to his 
nature, to bring good out of evil, to bring good men 
out of this world of temptations. I believe both. It 
does not perplex nor disturb me, but it calms and it 
comforts me, to believe that the good and merciful 
Spirit of God is all around me, and can interpose for 
me and assist me, in my times of trouble, and tempta- 
tion, and peril. And it does not pain me, but it imparts 
satisfaction to my mind to believe, that the counsel, 
which has designed the highest good to its obedient 
offspring, is an eternal counsel ! 

If, now, on the whole, it be said that these views, 
which have been offered, lessen the importance, or the 
reality of God's counsel and providence, we maintain 
on the contrary, that they assert them in the highest 



ON THE FIVE POINTS OF CALVINISM. 103 

degree ; that they carry them into all things, and thus 
directly lead to devotion ; that they serve, therefore, the 
grandest purpose of religious instruction, by bringing 
God, in his power and his mercy, near to us ; by im- 
pressing a sense of our dependance on him, and our 
unspeakable obligations to him, at every moment, and 
every step, for every attainment and blessing of life. 
This is the religious frame of spirit that we most need 
to gain ; to feel, that God is near to us, that he upholds 
and blesses us ; that he is near to us always ; that all 
things are rilled with his presence ; that the universe 
around us is not so much a standing monument, as a 
living expression of his goodness ; that all which we 
enjoy is not so much benevolence, sending down its 
gifts from afar to us, as it is the energy of his love 
working within us. 

This, then, is the practical result of our reflections ; 
that God is all in all ; that his ever-living mercy and 
his ever-working power pervade all things ; that they 
are in all height and in all depth, in what is vast and 
what is minute, in the floating atom and the rolling 
world, in the fall of a sparrow to the ground and in 
the great system of the universe, in the insect's life, 
and in the soaring spirit of the archangel. 

It is in Him, that each of us lives, and moves, and 
has his being. If we have gained any blessings of life, 
and if we have made any acquisition of knowledge, it 
is from him. And especially, if we have made any 
attainments in piety; if we are learning the great 
lesson of life, and that which prepares us for another 
and a better ; if we are learning to be devout and pure 
in heart, to be affectionate, and forbearing, and patient, 
and penitent, and forgiving ; if the dew of a heavenly 
influence is descending upon us, and the fruits of virtue 
and goodness are springing up within us ; if the uni- 



104 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



verse is ministering to our devotion, if religion, with 
every kind and gracious power, has visited us, and has 
become our friend, and guide, and comforter, the em- 
ployment, and happiness, and end of our being ; Oh ! 
this is an emanation from the Divinity, a beam of 
heaven's own light, an expression of God's mercy, that 
demands our highest and tenderest gratitude. Thus, 
if we would come to the great practical result of all 
religious truth, let us be convinced, and feel, that " God 
is all in all." " Of him, and through him, and to him, 
are all things ; and to him, to him who made us, and 
blesses us, and guides us to heaven, to Him be glory 
for ever and ever." 



IV. 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 

1 have hesitated about introducing this subject, in 
the present course of observations, because there is no 
question upon it that does, accurately speaking, divide 
Orthodox and Liberal Christians. The great ques- 
tion, about the duration of future punishment, has 
been brought very little into debate between the par- 
ties, and it has no particular connexion with any of 
the speculative questions that are in debate. If Uni- 
versalism, considered as a denial of all future punish- 
ment, has more affinity with any one theological sys- 
tem than another, it undoubtedly is Calvinism ; and it 
is a well known fact, that it originally sprung from 
Calvinism, and existed in the closest connexion with it. 

Still, however, since it is latterly urged, by the Or- 
thodox, that there is a great difference between them 
and their opponents, on this subject, and since, as I 
apprehend, a difference does exist in their general 
views and speculations, and one that deserves to be 
discussed, I have thought proper to bring it into the 
course of my remarks. 

As the subject has been very little discussed among 
us, I shall treat it, not so much in the form of contro- 
versy, as with that calm and dispassionate disquisition, 
which more properly belongs to a theme so solemn and 
weighty. 



106 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



I. The retribution of guilt is serious in the contem- 
plation, and must be severe in the endurance. The 
penal suffering of a guilty mind, wherever, and 
tvhenever it comes, must be great. This, to me, is the 
first and clearest of all truths, with regard to the pun- 
ishment of sin. Even experience teaches us this ; 
and Scripture, with many words of awful warning, 
confirms the darkest admonitions of experience. If 
sin is not repented of, in this life, then its punishment 
must take place in a future world. 

Of the miseries of that future state, I do not need 
the idea of a direct infliction from God, to give me a 
fearful impression. Of all the unveiled horrors of that 
world, nothing seems so terrific, as the self-inflicted 
torture of a guilty conscience. It will be enough to 
fill the measure of his woe, that the sinner shall be left 
to himself ; that he shall be left to the natural conse- 
quences of his wickedness. In the universe, there are 
no agents to work out the misery of the soul, like its 
own fell passions ; not the fire, the darkness, the flood, 
or the tempest. Nothing, within the range of our con- 
ceptions, can equal the dread silence of conscience, the 
calm desperation of remorse, the corroding of ungrati- 
fied desire, the gnawing worm of envy, the bitter cup 
of disappointment, the blighting curse of hatred. 
These, pushed to their extremity, may be enough to 
destroy the soul ; as lesser sufferings, in this world, 
are sometimes found to destroy the reason. 

But whatever that future calamity will be, I believe 
it is the highest idea we can form of it, to suppose that 
it is of the sinner's own procuring ; that the burden of 
his transgressions will fall upon him, by its own weight ; 
not be hurled upon him, as a thunder-bolt from heaven. 
If we should suppose a wicked man to live always on 
earth, and to proceed in his career of iniquity, adding 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



107 



sin to sin, arming conscience with new terrors, gather- 
ing and enhancing all horrible diseases and distempers, 
and increasing and accumulating the load of infamy 
and woe ; this might give us some faint idea of the 
extent to which sin may go in another world. 

This, then, is not a subject to be treated lightly, nor 
with any heat or passion ; but should be taken home 
to the most solemn contemplation and deep solicitude 
of every accountable being. 

II. My second remark is, that the scriptural repre- 
sentations of future punishment are not literal nor 
definite. 

That they are not literal is manifest from the con- 
sideration, that they are totally inconsistent, if taken 
literally. If there is a lake of fire, there cannot be a 
gnawing worm. If it is blackness of darkness, it can- 
not be a flaming deluge of fire. If it is death and de- 
struction, literally, it cannot be sensible pain. If it is 
the loss of the soul, it cannot be the suffering of the 
soul. And yet all these representations are used to 
describe the future misery. It is plain, therefore, that 
all cannot be literally true. To suppose them literal, 
indeed, would be to make the future world like the 
present ; for they are all drawn from present objects. 
Neither are these representations definite. It is not a 
definite idea, but "a certain fearful looking-for of judg- 
ment," that is given to us, in the present state. We 
know nothing about the particular place, or the parti- 
cular circumstances of a future punishment. If these 
things are not literally described, it follows, indeed, that 
they are not definitely. For, the moment these de- 
scriptions cease to be literal, they cease to furnish ideas 
of anything that is tangible, of anything that can be- 
long to place or circumstance, of anything that has 
dimensions, shape, or elements. That is to say, they 



108 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



are figurative. They serve but to throw a deeper 
shadow over the dark abyss ; and leave us, not to pry 
into it with curiosity, but to tremble with fear. Indeed, 
the very circumstance, that the future woe is un- 
knoivn, is, in itself, a most awful and appalling cir- 
cumstance. It may be, that the revelation of it comes 
to us in general and ambiguous terms, for this very 
purpose. There is really something more alarming in 
a certain fearful looking-for of judgment, than in the 
definite knowledge of it. 

Neither, as I believe, are those terms, which describe 
the duration of future misery, definite. Indeed, why 
should they be more definite, than those which relate 
to place or circumstance 1 In passages where all else 
is figurative, and that in so very high a degree, why 
may it not be suspected that what relates to the time 
may be figurative ? This suspicion, drawn from the 
connected phraseology, may derive additional strength 
from the subject, about which the language in ques- 
tion is employed. It is the future, the indefinite, the 
unknown state. Whatever stretches into the vast fu- 
turity, is to us eternal. We can grasp no thought of 
everlasting, but that it is indefinite. You may bring 
this argument home to your own feelings, if you sup- 
pose that you had been called to describe some future 
and awful calamity, which was vast, indefinite, un- 
known, terrible ; if you consider whether you would 
not, with these views, have adopted phraseology as 
strong, as unlimited, as you find in the Scriptures on 
this subject. If, then, our idea of future punishment 
extends so far as to provide for the full strength of the 
language used ; if our theory provide for the terms to 
be explained by it, is it not sufficient ? does it not go 
far enough ? 

To these considerations, relating to the language 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



109 



and the principles of interpretation that ought to be 
applied to it, let it be observed in addition, that the 
oriental style was habitually and very highly meta- 
phorical, and is to be explained by the impression it 
would naturally make on those who were accustomed 
to it ; and that even among us, with our cooler imagi- 
nations, the terms in question, such as "for ever," <fcc, 
are used figuratively, are applied to limited periods, 
and this on the most common occasions and subjects. 
To take one instance for all, as being the strongest of 
all : there is no higher or more unqualified description 
of the endurance of future misery, than that which 
says, " their worm dieth not, and the fire is not 
quenched." Now it has been very plausibly argued 
thus ; that " if ever the time comes when their worm 
shall die ; if ever there shall be a quenching of the 
fire at all ; then it is not true, that their worm dieth 
not, and the fire is not quenched."* And the argu- 
ment might be as conclusive as it is plausible, were it 
not for a single passage in the Old Testament, which 
applies the same language to a punishment confessedly 
temporary. It is the closing passage of Isaiah ; " and 
they shall go forth," that is, from Jerusalem, and 
probably to the valley of Jehoshaphat, where it is well 
known, that carcasses were thrown, and an almost 
perpetual fire kept to consume them; "And they shall 
go forth, and shall look upon the carcasses of the men 
who have transgressed against me ; for their worm 
shall not die, neither shall their fire be quenched, and 
they shall be an abhorring to all flesh." 

I shall only remark farther, upon the Scripture repre- 
sentations, that there is an ambiguity, a generality, a 
vastness, a terror about them, that seems fitted to check 
our confident reasonings. It is enough for us to fear. 
* Jonathan Edwards. 

w 



110 CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 

To speculate much, seems not our wisdom. Yet if we 
will speculate ; if we can dispute on such a subject ; if 
we can wrangle about texts and interpretations, and 
claim the full amount and force of every passage and 
statement, it may be well for us to be reminded, that 
we shall only confound ourselves, in our haste, and 
destroy the positions we take, in our eagerness to 
defend them. For if any one shall insist on the full 
force of those declarations, that denounce everlasting 
misery ; his adversary may as fairly take his stand on 
the opposite texts, which declare that God will have 
all men to be saved ; that Jesus came to destroy death ; 
that death is swallowed up of life. Or if any one shall 
confine himself to the words eternal, unquenchable, 
&c, and will allow them no modification, I see not 
how he can fairly deny to his adversary the equal right 
of adhering to the representations of death, destruction, 
loss of the soul, or in other words, of annihilation, 
which are applied to the same subject. Nay, the latter 
will seem to have the advantage in the argument, for 
annihilation is an everlasting calamity. But not to 
dwell on this ; the ambiguity mentioned, furnishes an 
answer to an important objection to our views. It is 
said, if future misery is not literally eternal, what rea- 
son is there to think that future happiness is so? for 
the same terms are brought to describe both. I answer 
that neither of them depend on general terms ; that 
we are to look for our belief on all these subjects to the 
scope and tenor of the sacred writing ; and that, in 
particular, the promises of future happiness are all 
consistent, and leave no obscurity nor doubt. It is life, 
peace, rest ; knowledge, perfection ; glory, blessedness. 
But the threatenings of future evil are ambiguous, dark, 
obscure, and if taken literally, inconsistent. It is life, 
and death ; being tormented, and being destroyed. It 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



Ill 



leaves therefore a vague but fearful impression. And 
such, it seems to me, were the Scriptures intended to 
leave ; the impression of some vast and tremendous 
calamity, without precisely informing us what it is. 

I cannot close this topic without offering one or two 
observations, independent of the Scripture arguments, 
which seem to me of great weight. 

There is one tremendous bearing of the doctrine of 
literally eternal punishment, the bare statement of 
which seems to me almost enough to decide the ques- 
tion. Take the instance of a child ; one who hast just 
begun to be a moral agent ; let the age be what it may ; 
we need not now decide : suppose that it has just come 
to the capacity of being sinful or holy ; that it has pos- 
sessed this capacity one hour or one day; that during 
this brief period it has been selfish, passionate, unholy 
— a case not uncommon, I fear ; that in short it has 
possessed, during this brief period of its probation, a 
character, which the gospel does not approve, which it 
condemns, which it threatens : and can you believe 
that this child, in ignorance, in imbecility, in tempta- 
tions ; with passions unconsciously nurtured in the 
sleep of infancy, which are now breaking forth ; with 
scarcely any force of reason to restrain them ; with but 
a slight knowledge of God, with not a thought of futu- 
rity ; that this child, the creature of weakness and 
ignorance, is actually, and in one single day, setting 
the seal to a misery that is eternal, and eternally in- 
creasing ; to a misery which must therefore, in the 
event, infinitely surpass all that the world, in all the 
periods of its duration, has suffered or will suffer? Yet 
this is the doctrine ; this is one essential form of the 
doctrine of literally eternal punishment ; and if you 
cannot believe this, as I am persuaded, if you feel the 



112 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



case you cannot, you cannot believe the doctrine at all, 

in any form. 

There is another observation which seems to me 
equally conclusive. The doctrine, as it appears to me, 
destroys the natural proofs of the goodness of God. Let 
it be observed, that every question about this subject 
may be resolved into this : Is human life a blessing ? 
If not, to what purpose is all that can be said about the 
order, beauty, richness and kindly adaptations of this 
earthly system? What is it to me, that the heavens 
are glorious to behold, that the earth is fair to look 
upon ; what to me that I dwell in a splendid mansion ; 
if on the whole I have more reason to be sorrowful 
than to be happy ; if I have more to fear than to hope ; 
if life is more to be lamented than desired ; if it is a 
subject more of regret than gratitude? Is human life, 
then, a blessing? To deny it, is impiety. To deny 
it, is to take away all grounds of religious trust and 
devotion, all grounds of believing in the Sacred Scrip- 
tures, and in Jesus. For if God is not good, we can 
have no confidence in his rectitude or veracity. If God 
is not good, we cannot know but he may deceive us, 
with even miraculous proofs of falsehood. Our life, 
then, is a blessing : that is, it is a thing to be desired. 
Nov/ the question is, whether, when it is so difficult to 
form the character, which is required for future happi- 
ness ; when it is so possible to fail ; when the unerring 
Scriptures are so full of awful warnings; whether any 
rational being would desire existence, on the terrible 
condition, that if he did once fail, he would fail forever ; 
that if he did fail in this short life, he must sink to a 
helpless, remediless, everlasting woe. The word eter- 
nity passes easily from our lips, but consider what it 
imports ; consider it deeply, and then say : who would 
think it a favour to take so tremendous a risk ? Could 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



113 



any one of us have been brought into being, for one 
moment, in the maturity of his faculties, to decide on 
such a proposal, to decide whether he should take such 
a hazard, surely, he would make the refusal, with a 
strength of emotion, with a horror of feeling, that would 
be enough to destroy as it passed over him. "No! 
no !" he would exclaim, "save me from that trial: let 
me be the nothing that I was : there at least is safety : 
save me from the paths of life, that conduct such mul- 
titudes — and why not me ? — down to everlasting and 
ever-living death !" Now, let us ask, can it be that the 
all-powerful and infinitely benevolent God has brought 
beings into existence in circumstances that deserve to 
be thus regarded ; that he has given them life so fated, 
so perilous, that if they could comprehend it, if it were 
not for their ignorance — they would abhor the gift as 
an infinite curse? 

There are various degrees and shades of religious 
belief and much that is called such is so low upon the 
scale, as scarcely to differ from downright skepticism. 
And I have often been ready to a^k, when I have sur- 
veyed the aspects of life around me, whether men do 
really believe on this subject, what is written in their 
creed. There are those, I know, who have found a 
great difference between asserting and believing in 
this case ; who, when they came to be impressed with 
this doctrine, felt as if all the cheerfulness of life was 
the most horrible insensibility ; and as if all the light 
that was around them, the light that rested on the 
fair scenes of nature, was turned into darkness and 
gloom ; felt as if all that is bright and gladdening, in 
the general aspects of society and of the world, was 
the most treacherous and terrible illusion ! And is it 
not so, if the popular doctrine be true ? I see a busy, 
toiling, and oftentimes joyous multitude, thronging the 
10* 



114 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



villages and cities of the world ; hundreds of millions 
of human beings, to whom happiness is more than life, 
and misery more than death. I see childhood, lovely 
childhood, with its opening moral faculties, in ten 
thousand bosoms, throbbing with new and glad exis- 
tence. I see the whole world, dwelling in an igno- 
rance, or a moral unconsciousness, almost like that of 
childhood ; and are they, all around me, every hour, 
by hundreds and by thousands, dropping into a region 
of woes and agonies and groans, never to be relieved 
or terminated 1 Gracious heaven ! if one tenth part of 
the human race were the next year to die amidst the 
horrors of famine, that evil, light as it is in the compa- 
rison, would cover the earth with a universal mourning ! 

How evident is it, then, that men have nothing ap- 
proaching' to a belief, of what the popular creed avers 
on this awful subject. I do not bring this as an argu- 
ment against the doctrine it lays down. But I do 
maintain, that men should believe what they say, be- 
fore they condemn those who cannot say so much ; that 
they should feel the trial of faith, before they decide 
on the propriety of a doubt. 

I may be told that what I have been saying is not 
Scripture, but reasoning. I know it is reasoning. I 
have already shown, as I think, that the Scriptures do 
not warrant the doctrine that is commonly deduced 
from them ; and to my mind, the reasoning I have 
used strongly enforces the rejection of it. 

III. But I hasten to my final remark ; which is, that 
the Scriptures reveal our future danger, whatever it be, 
for the purpose of alarming us ; and therefore, that to 
speculate on this subject, in order to lessen our fear of 
sinning, involves the greatest hazard and impiety. 
There is a high moral use, and it is the only use for 
which the awful revelation of " the powers of the world 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



115 



to come" was intended, and most evidently and emi- 
nently fitted ; and that is, to awaken fear. Whatever 
else the language in question means, it means this. 
About other topics relating to it, there may be ques- 
tions ; about this, none at all. And after all that has 
been said, I shall not hesitate to add, that we are in 
no danger of really believing too much, or fearing too 
much. And this is my answer, if any should object to 
the moral tendency of the views that have been of- 
fered : I maintain that a man should fear all that he 
ca?i, and I actually hold a belief, that affords the fullest 
scope for such a feeling. It is not of so much conse- 
quence that any one should use fearful words on this 
subject, and even violently contend for them, as that 
he should himself fear and tremble. 

And I repeat, that there is reason. For if we adopt 
any opinion, short of the most blank and bald Univer- 
salism, it cannot fail to be serious. Will you embrace 
the idea of a literal destruction? Imagine, then, if 
possible, what it is to be no more for ever ! Look down 
into the abyss of dark and dismal annihilation. Think 
with yourself, what it would be, if all which you call 
yourself, your mind, your life, your cherished being, 
were to fall into the jaws of everlasting death ! There 
is something dreadful beyond utterance in the thought 
of annihilation ; to go away from the abodes of life, to 
quit our hold of life and being itself ; to be nothing — 
nothing, forever ! while the glad universe should go 
onward in its brightness and its glory, and myriads of 
beings should live and be happy ; and all their dwell- 
ings, and all their worlds should be overspread with 
life and beauty and joy ! Imagine it, if you can. 
Think, that the hour of last farewell to all this had 
come : think of the last moment, of the last act, of the 
last thought ; and that thought annihilation ! Oh ! 



116 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



it would be enough to start with its energy your whole 
being into a new life ; methinks, you would spring 
with agony from the verge of the horrible abyss, and 
cry for life, for existence — though it were woe and tor- 
ment ! Shall we then prefer the hope of long and re- 
medial suffering ? Then carry forward your thoughts 
to that dark world, where there shall be "no more 
sacrifice for sin," no more Saviour to call and win us, 
no more mild and gentle methods of restoration ; 
where sin must be purged from us, if at all, "so as by 
fire." Carry forward your thoughts to that dark strug- 
gle with the powers of retribution, where every malig- 
nant and hateful passion will wage the fearful war 
against the soul ; where habit, too, will have bound 
and shackled the soul with its everlasting chains of 
darkness ; and its companions, fiends like itself, shall 
only urge it on to sin. "When will the struggle cease ? 
If sin cannot be resisted now, in this world of means, 
and motives, and mercies, how shall it be resisted then 7 
When or how shall the miserable soul retrieve its 
steps ? From what depth of eternity shall it trace 
back its way of ages ? God only knows. To us it is 
not given. But we know that the retribution of a 
sinful soul is what we ought above all things to fear. 
For thus are we instructed. "Fear not them that, 
after they have killed the body, have no more that 
they can do : but fear him who is able to destroy both 
soul and body in hell ; yea, I say unto you, fear him." 
We know not what it is ; but we know that such 
terms and phrases as we read ; " the wrath to come ; 
the worm that dieth not ; the fire that is not quenched ; 
the blackness of darkness; the fiery indignation:" 
that these words not only import what is fearful, but 
were intended to inspire a salutary dread. We know 
not what it is ; but we have heard of one who lifted 



ON FUTURE PUNISHMENT. 



117 



up his eyes being in torment, and saw the regions of 
the blessed afar off, and cried and said, " Father Abra- 
ham, have mercy on me ! for I am tormented in this 
flame." W e know not what it is ; but we know that 
the finger of inspiration has pointed awfully to that 
world of calamity. We know that inspired prophets 
and apostles, when the interposing veil has been, for a 
moment, drawn before them, have shuddered with hor- 
ror at the spectacle. We know that the Almighty 
himself has slathered and accumulated all the images 
of earthly distress and ruin, not to show us what it is, 
but to warn us of Avhat it may be ; that he has spread 
over this world the deep shadows of his displeasure, 
leaving nothing to be seen, and everything to be 
dreaded ! And thus has he taught us, what I would 
lay down, as the moral of these observations, and of 
all my reflections on this subject, that it is not our 
wisdom to speculate^ but to fear ! 



V. 



CONCLUSION. THE MODES OF ATTACK UPON LIB- 
ERAL CHRISTIANITY, THE SAME THAT AVE RE 
USED AGAINST THE DOCTRINE OF THE APOSTLES, 
AND REFORMERS. 

In being assailed as it is, Liberal Christianity meets 
but with the fate that naturally attends, and actually 
has attended all improvement. Whether our The- 
ology be a real progress of truth or not, this general 
statement will not be questioned. Every great ad- 
vancement in science, in the arts, in politics, has had 
to encounter this hostility. No cause has been, or is, 
more bitterly opposed, than the cause of political liber- 
ty. So it has been with religion. Christianity had to 
struggle long with the hostility of the world. Its doc- 
trines were opposed and its friends reproached. And 
when it declined from its purity, when it was cor- 
rupted through its popularity, through its prevalence, 
through its very orthodoxy, I may say ; when a revi- 
val of its true doctrines was needed ; the men who 
stood forward in that work, the Reformers, found that 
innovation was still an offence, that dissent was heresy, 
that truth was accounted no better than ruinous and 
fatal error. 

I say these things, in the general, and at the outset, 
not to prove, nor would I anywhere pretend to prove 
by such an argument, that our Theology is right, but 
to show that opposition to it is no evidence of its being 
wrong ; to show that a doctrine may be, like primitive 



CONCLUSION. 



119 



Christianity, " everywhere spoken against," and yet be 
a true doctrine. For there are many, who feel from 
the bare circumstance, that a system is so much re- 
proached, as if it must be wrong or questionable ; and 
there are many more, who suffer their opinions to 
float on the current of popular displeasure, without in- 
quiring at all into their justice or validity. Let such 
remember that no new truths ever did, nor, till men 
are much changed, ever can enter into the world, with- 
out this odium and hostility ; and let them not account 
that, which may be the very seal of truth, to be the 
brand of error ! 

I will now proceed to notice some of the particular 
modes of attack to which Liberal Christianity is sub- 
ject, to meet these assaults and objections, and to show 
that in being subjected to these assaults, it suffers no 
new or singular fate. 

I. In the first place, then, it is common to charge 
upon new opinions all the accidents attending their 
progress ; to blend with their main cause all the 
circumstances that happen to be connected with it. 
This is perhaps not unnatural, though it be unjust. 
Men hear that a new system is introduced, that a new 
sect is rising. They know nothing thoroughly about 
it, but they are inquiring what it is. In this state of 
mind they meet, not with a Unitarian book, but more 
likely with a passage from a book, taken from its con- 
nexion, culled out, it is probable, on purpose to make 
a bad impression, and forthwith this passage is made 
to stand for the system. Whenever Unitarianisin is 
mentioned, the obnoxious paragraph rises to mind, and 
settles all questions about it, at once. Or, perhaps, 
some act or behaviour of some individual in this new 
class of religionists is mentioned ; and this is henceforth 
considered and quoted as a just representation, not only 



120 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



of the whole body, but of their principles also. Thus 
an impediment in Paul's speech was made an objection 
to Christianity ; an objection which he thought it neces- 
sary gravely to debate with the church in Corinth. 

I have introduced this sort of objection first, not only 
because it arises naturally out of a man's first acquaint- 
ance with Unitarianism, but because it gives me an 
opportunity to say, before I proceed any further, how 
much of what passes under this name, it is necessary, 
as I conceive, to defend. I say, then, it is not neces- 
sary to defend everything that passes under this name, 
everything that every or any Unitarian has written, or 
said, or done. So obvious a disclamation might seem 
to be scarcely needful ; but it will not seem so to any, 
who have observed the manner in which things of this 
sort are charged upon us. What is it to me that such 
and such persons have said, or written, this or that 
thing? What is it to the main cause of truth, which 
we profess to support, or to the great questions at 
issue? In the circumstances of the Unitarian body, 
in the novelty to a certain extent of their opinions, in 
the violent opposition they meet with, I see exposures 
to many faults ; to excesses and extravagances, to mis- 
takes and errors. I could strike off half of the opinions 
and suggestions, that have sprung up from this pro- 
gress of inquiry, and still retain a body of unspeakably 
precious truth. There are several things, and some 
things of considerable practical moment, which I seri- 
ously doubt, whether we, as a denomination, have yet 
come to view rightly. The violence of opposition has, 
undoubtedly, in some respects, carried us to an extreme, 
in some points of opinion and practice. And certainly 
I find things in our writings, which, in ni3 T judgment, 
are indefensible. What less can be said, if we retain 
any independence, or sobriety, or discrimination about 



CONCLUSION. 



121 



us ? What less can be said of any fallible body of men ; 
of any body, comprising, as all denominations do, all 
sorts of men, all sorts of writers and thinkers ? If they 
are not inspired, they must be sometimes wrong. 

Nay, to bring this nearer home, it were folly for any 
one of us to contend that everything he has said or 
written is right, or even that it is done with a right 
spirit. Here is a conflict of opinions, the eagerness of 
dispute, the perverting influence of controversy. Here 
is an effervescence of the general mind. The moral 
elements of the world are shaken together, if not more 
violently, yet more intimately perhaps, than they ever 
were before. If any man can, with a severe calmness 
and a solemn scrutiny, sit down and meditate upon 
those things which agitate so many minds ; if he can 
separate the true from the false, and say a few things, 
out of many, that are exactly right, and a few things 
more that are helping on to a right issue ; it is, per- 
haps, all that he ought to expect. How much dross 
there may be, in the pure gold of the best minds, " He 
that sitteth as a Refiner " only can know. 

This, I confess, is my view of our controversies, and 
of all human controversies. I have no respect in this 
matter for authorities, for infallible sentences, or for 
the reverence and weight that are given to sentences, 
because they are uttered by some leader in the church, 
or because they are written in a book. I have no 
respect for the spirit of quotation, that, having brought 
forward a grave proposition from some synod, or coun- 
cil, oi\book, or body of divinity, holds that to be enough. 
All men err ; all synods, and councils, and consisto- 
ries, and books and bodies of divinity ; which is only 
saying, that they all do that in the aggregate and in 
form, which they do individually and necessarily. 
And if this be true, if these views be just, how unrea- 
11 



122 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



sonable is it, to catch up sentences here and there, from 
any class of writings, and erect them into serious and 
comprehensive charges % 

The real and proper question is about principles. 
Let these be shown to be wrong, and the denomination 
that abides by them must fall. On this, the only 
tenable ground for any reasonable man, I take my 
stand. I have no doubt that our leading principles are 
true ; and it would not, in the slightest degree, disturb 
this faith, if there could be shown me ten volumes of 
indefensible extracts from our writings. Whether half 
a volume of such, out of the hundred that have been 
written, can be produced, 1 leave not to the candour of 
our opponents to decide, but to their ingenuity to make 
out, if they are able. The constant repetition of three 
or four stale extracts, garbled from the writings of 
Priestley and Belsham, would seem to show that the 
stock of invidious quotations is very small. In fact, I 
do consider Unitarians, in comparison with any other 
religious body, as having written with great general 
propriety, soberness and wisdom. But if they have 
not, or if any one thinks they have not, it will very 
little affect the general truth of their principles. 

And how ill, let me ask, could any other body of 
Christians bear this sort of scrutiny? How easy would 
it be to select from Orthodox writings, and even from 
those of great general reputation, a mass of extracts 
that would make the whole world cry out ; one part 
with horror at their enormity, and another with indig- 
nation at their being presented for the purpose of show- 
ing what orthodoxy is ! It would be unjust, I confess. 
It would disturb no independent believer in that system : 
and as little ought such things to disturb us. 

I have now noticed the first feeling of objection which 
naturally arises against a new system ; that which 



CONCLUSION. 



123 



proceeds from confounding the main cause with the 
circumstances that attend it. 

II. But another objection, and that perhaps which 
is first put in form, is against the alleged newness of 
the system. It is said that this religion is a new thing ; 
that it is a departure from the faith of ages ; that it 
unsettles the most established notions of things, and 
breaks in upon the order and peace of the churches. 
I state this objection strongly for the sake of our oppo- 
nents, and indeed much more strongly than it deserves 
to be. For Unitarianism professes, so far from being 
a new thing, to be the old, pure, primitive Christianity. 
It does not profess, even in comparison with orthodoxy, 
to be essentially a new thing, but only so, in certain 
speculative doctrines ; and still less is it the friend or 
promoter of disorder and disunion. Nevertheless, it is, 
to a certain extent, a new thing, and it occasions, 
through the objections made to it, much disturbance. 

And can these, I ask, be valid or weighty objections 
in the mouths of Christians and Protestants ? Chris- 
tianity was once a new thing. The Athenian philoso- 
phers said to Paul, no doubt with as much contempt 
as any modern questioner could feel, " We would know 
what this new doctrine, whereof thou speakest, is." 
And others said, " These men that have turned the 
world upside down, have come hither also." Yes, 
troublesome, " pestilent fellows," " movers of sedition," 
devisers of mischief, and " doers of evil," were the first 
propagators of Christianity accounted, and were not 
ashamed thus to suffer in imitation of their slandered 
Master. And the Reformers of Christianity, in the 
sixteenth century, trod in the same steps, and in like 
manner had their " names cast out as evil." And espe- 
cially was it objected to them, that they departed from 
the faith of ages, and invaded the repose of time-hal- 



124 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



lowed doctrines and institutions. And in the strong 
confidence, ay, the strong argument of the majority, 
the same things were said about the truth as are now 
said ; the same cry of "the church is in danger" was 
raised ; the same anathemas were pronounced against 
dangerous heresies and the denying of the faith. The 
whole scene was acted over, that is now witnessed, of 
an exclusive and hostile orthodoxy, on the one hand, 
and a firm and unyielding dissent on the other ; only 
that orthodoxy could then command the inquisition 
and the rack ; and now it only sets its tribunal on the 
reputation of men, and subjects the mind to trials, that 
in some instances scarcely fall short of the tortures of 
the rack. This has always been the fate of innova- 
tion, and, perhaps, it always must be. And to those 
who, for conscience' sake, draw upon themselves this 
hostility to whatever is new, I would say ; think it not 
strange concerning this fiery trial, as though any strange 
thing happened to you. It is the same that has hap- 
pened to the reformers of faith, to the witnesses for 
truth, in all ages. Be not astonished or disheartened 
at this. Only bear it patiently. No assault, no detrac- 
tion can injure you, if you bear them with the spirit of 
Christ. Rather will they benefit you unspeakably and 
forever, benefit you in awakening that love, and meek- 
ness, and humility, the trying of which is more precious 
than that of gold which perisheth. " If ye be reproached 
for the name of Christ, if ye be reproached for labouring 
to rescue his name and his religion from mistake and 
injury, "happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and of 
God resteth on you !" 

III. Another method of attack upon Liberal Christi- 
anity is to awaken sentiments of pity and horror against 
it. I am not about to deny that this is very honestly 
done ; but I do say that it is an unworthy mode of 



CONCLUSION. 



125 



assault ; that it appeals not to the judgment, but to the 
passions ; and that it is very apt to be the strongest, 
in the weakest hands. To put on a solemn counte- 
nance, to speak in sepulchral tones of awe and lamen- 
tation, to warn men against this doctrine, is easy. But, 
alas ! for the weakness of men, if it is an instrument 
easily wielded, it is also an instrument of terrible power 
with the superstitious, the timid and unreflecting. A 
considerate man, a man who respects the minds and 
consciences of those he has to deal with, will be cautious 
how he takes hold of such a weapon as this : a weapon 
which prevails chiefly with human weakness, which 
strikes the very part of our nature that most needs to 
be supported, which wounds only the infirm, and over- 
whelms only the prostrate. For I need not say, that it 
is precisely with minds in this situation that tones of 
pity and horror have the greatest influence. A man 
of independent thought and vigorous understanding, 
who could better afford to bear this sort of influence, is 
the very person who will not yield to it. He will say 
indignantly, "that is nothing to the purpose. That 
does not satisfy me. I did not ask you to warn me, 
but to enlighten me. I did not ask you to weep, but 
to reason. No doubt you feel as you say, and very 
sincerely feel thus ; it is not your sincerity that I ques- 
tion, but your argument. You degrade my under- 
standing, when you attempt to work upon it in this 
manner. I was made to think. The Lord of con- 
science has given me liberty to inquire ; and I will not 
be subject to any other influence. God has called me 
to liberty ; and man shall not lay me under bondage." 

Nor is this all. Pity and horror prove nothing, in- 
deed ; but it is moreover a matter of history, that 
truth has always made its progress amidst the pity 
and horror of men. Yes : it has come thus \ amidst 
11* 



126 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



sighings and doublings, and shakings of the head, and 
warnings of danger, and forebodings of evil. Yes ; it 
has held its way, through tokens like these ; with dark 
countenances about it, and loud denunciations, and 
woful anathemas. It has stood up and spoken in the 
person of its great Teacher ; and men have "gnashed 
their teeth and rent their garments," at its voice. It 
has gone forth into the world, with its devoted Apos- 
tles, and been accounted "the offscouring of all things." 
It has "prophesied in sackcloth," with its faithful wit- 
nesses, and borne the cross of ignominy and reproach. 
The angry Sanhedrim, the bloody Inquisition, the dun- 
geon, the rack, the martyr's stake, have testified to the 
abhorrence of men against the truth ! 

I do not say that the truth I hold is worthy of this 
glorious fellowship. But I say that its being joined in 
any measure to this fellowship, does not prove it false. 
And if it be true, as I solemnly believe it is, then let not 
its advocates claim entire exemption from the trials of 
their elder brethren. It will go on, and men will 
speak evil of it, and they will struggle against it, and 
they will lament and weep ; but it will be as if they 
lifted up their voice to withstand the rolling seasons, 
or struggled against the chariot wheels of the morning, 
or poured out vain tears upon the mighty stream that 
is to bear all before it. I say this, more in sorrow, I 
hope, than in scorn. I am sorry for those who cannot 
see this matter as I think they ought to see it. I am 
sorry for the unhappiness, for the honest grief, which 
a misplaced pity, and an uncharitable zeal, and a spirit 
of reproach and condemnation, give them. But their 
grief, save for its own sake, moves me not at all. I 
consider it as a penance for their mistaken hostility to 
truth, rather than a fair admonition of error. I be- 
lieve, and can believe no less, that this unhappiness is 



CONCLUSION. 



127 



simply the fruit of error. Uncharitableness must be 
unhappy ; anger must be painful ; exclusion, and 
anathematizing, and dooming sincere brethren to per- 
dition, must be works of bitterness and grief. I won- 
der not, that a man should weep while he is doing 
them ; my only wonder is, that he can ever do them, 
and not weep ! 

IV. But I shall now proceed to consider one or two 
objections of a graver character. It is said, that the 
religion, which Unitarianism teaches, does not meet 
the wants of human nature, that it does not satisfy 
the mind, that it fails as a support and comfort to the 
soul. I recur again to the observation, that it is per- 
fectly natural that this objection should be brought 
against new views of religion ; simply because they 
are new, and whether they are true or not ; and there- 
fore, that no strange thing happens to them, when 
they are thus regarded. If you take away some parts 
of a religion on which men have relied, you take away 
some part of their reliance ; and they cannot feel for a 
time, as if anything else would be such a support and 
satisfaction to them. This will be especially true, if 
you introduce simpler, and more rational ideas of re- 
ligion. The Jew could say to the Christian, "How 
many feasts and holy-days, and sabbaths and new 
moons, and rites and ordinances, on which my soul 
relied, have you removed from me !" The Catholic 
could say of the Protestant, " Where, alas ! are the 
masses and the confessionals, and the comfortable ab- 
solutions, and the intercessions of saints, for him!" 
And things of the same import, concerning the more 
doctrinal aspects of religion, may the Calvinist say to 
the Unitarian. But the Christian and the Protestant 
could reply to their respective opponents, "We have a 
reliance as sure and satisfactory as yours ; and more 



128 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



sound and spiritual, as we judge." And so may the 
Unitarian say to the Calvinist. 

But let us go into the real merits of the case. What 
is a foundation and a support in religion, and whence 
does true comfort arise ? Our Saviour speaks of a 
foundation, when he says, " he that heareth my words 
and doeth them, I will liken to a wise man," whose 
"house fell not, because it was founded on a rock." 
Surely, Unitarians do not reject this foundation. "But 
our own endeavours and virtues are not sufficient of 
themselves." Certainly not ; and Unitarians may rely, 
as unfeignedly as their brethren, on the mercy of God, 
and they sincerely profess to do so. This satisfies 
them. To say, that it does not satisfy the demands 
of a different theology, is only saying that the spe- 
culations of the two classes differ. "But," it may be 
contended, "it does not satisfy the wants of human 
nature." This is a matter of which every one must 
judge from the feelings of his own mind. As the Uni- 
tarian experiences human nature, he would say that 
the simple promise of God's mercy and aid to his hum- 
ble endeavours, does give all needful satisfaction. A 
certain theory of the divine government may not be 
satisfied; the superstitious wants of human nature 
may not be satisfied ; but the Unitarian believes that 
its real wants are. 

But I go farther; though I would say what I am 
about to say, with all reasonable and fair qualifica- 
tions. I feel obliged to use increasing caution in all 
general representations. There are men too intelli- 
gent and good in every class of Christians, to be very 
much affected by a formal creed. Nevertheless, I 
have not a doubt, that there are many to whom the 
popular religion furnishes grounds of support and satis- 
faction, which are not right and rational grounds. 



CONCLUSION. 



129 



The regular plan and process of religious experience, 
the denned steps and dates ; an exact time and mo- 
ment of conversion, and the certainty of salvation after 
that; the efficacy of the act of faith, distinguished as 
it often is from the general efficacy of a holy life ; "the 
view of Christ," and of the atonement as relieving the 
sinner from his burden; "the rolling off of the burden 
of sin," as it is often called ; the notions of a founda- 
tion, and a hope, and a joy, disconnected as they are 
from the result of long-tried virtue and piety ; the idea 
of the Holy Spirit is alone doing the " effectual work " 
of salvation in man, doing it by a special interposition 
after all the sinner's efforts are over, and he is brought 
to despair of himself ; these views, as I believe, furnish 
a fallacious support, and comfort, and relief, to many. 
I would lay a weight upon man's responsibility, which 
is, no doubt, disagreeable to him. I would tell a sinful 
man, that anxiety is more becoming to him than 
confidence and repose. He is indeed to confide and 
repose in the mercy of God and the interposition of 
Christ; but these no more avail him, than to tell him 
that there is wealth in store for his industry. So far 
as his own part is concerned, it is industry, it is work- 
ing, continual working, daily accumulation, that is to 
make him rich towards God. I would tell him that 
believing is virtually the same as doing ; and that it is 
this doing, this constant doing, and this alone, that can 
roll away the burden of sin. In short, I would say 
that for a sinful man to attain to the favour of God and 
to heaven, is the same as for an intemperate man to 
attain to sobriety and virtue ; that it is what he must 
do, every day and hour, day by day and hour by hour, 
striving, watching, guarding, praying, keeping himself 
under perpetual restraint, till he is redeemed from his 
iniquity. In other words, I would strive to represent 



130 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



this matter rationally ; and would say. that the sinner 
is to become a holy man, just as the ignorant is to 
become a learned man, by little and little, by con- 
stant accumulations, by gaining one truth to-day and 
another to-morrow, by perpetual progress. 

Now I do not deny that these things, in the general, 
are taught by Calvinists ; but then I maintain that 
they are commonly taught in such a way, that they 
are so mixed up with certain doctrines, as that their 
pressure upon the soul is relieved : so that a man does 
not feel that he is to become a Christian just as he is 
to become a rich man, or a skilful, or a wise man. 
He does not feel this pressure of necessity upon him, 
every morning, and lie down with this anxiety every 
night, as the seeker of learning or wealth does. Alas ! 
few feel this as they ought to feel it ! But this is what 
we should strive to make men feel. And we ought to 
sweep away all doctrines that stand in the way of this. 
We should allow of no peace ; we should hear of no 
summary method, no parcelling out of the matters of 
religious experience, that will make it a different thing 
from the daily, plain, practical, unwearied doing of 
every thing a man ought to do. No believing of creeds, 
no paying of contributions, no regular and stated 
prayers, no oft-repeated confessions, proper as these are 
in their place ; no atonement, nor election, nor special 
grace, nor perseverance, true as they are when truly 
explained, should save a man from the pressure of this 
instant necessity. 

I conceive that the reason why Calvinism offers 
more support to many minds is, that it is a more arti- 
ficial system, and approaches less nearly to the simple 
truth. It is too much a religion of seasons and times, 
of fixtures and props, of reliefs and substitutions, of 
comforts and confidences. And I am persuaded that 



CONCLUSION. 



131 



the Roman Catholic religion would much better an- 
swer the purpose of supporting and satisfying minds, 
in the state now supposed. There have been, not 
long since, some distinguished converts in Germany 
to the Catholic faith. I could easily conceive of one 
of them as saying ; " here at last I find rest ; I find 
certainty and refuge in the infallibility and absolution 
of the Holy Church. This, too, is the accumulated 
support of ages, built on the virtues and sufferings of 
fathers, and confessors, and martyrs. How, also, am I 
affected with the real presence of the body of Christ in 
the sacrament, with the guardianship of saints, and 
the interceding tenderness of the Holy Mother ! I 
never was so impressed with any religion as this. I 
never found such joy and peace in any. This is the 
religion for a sinner ! This is what my depraved and 
burdened nature wanted !" 

" Yes," replies the sound Protestant, " but it would 
not move we, nor support nor comfort me. The im- 
pressiveness of a religion does not depend, altogether, 
upon its truth or falsehood, but very much on the state 
of the mind that receives it." And this is what we an- 
swer to the Calvinist. We say that Calvinism would 
make no kindly nor renewing impression on ws. And 
as to comfort and support, it seems to us in some of its 
features, the most cheerless and desolate of all systems. 

V. But I must hasten to the last objection that I 
intended to notice. It is said that there is a fatal 
coldness in the Unitarian system, that there is no ex- 
citement in it, no reality, no seriousness, no strictness ; 
that it is fitted to gratify the proud, the philosophic, the 
worldly and the vicious. 

I must again remind the reader, in the first place, 
that this is just what new views of religion may expect, 
and what they have always in fact encountered. It 



132 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



is no strange thing, that strangers to the practical 
sense of our principles, should not confess their power. 
All this cry was raised against the Reformation, as 
loudly as it is raised against us. 

Nay, it may be admitted in the second place, with- 
out any prejudice to the cause I maintain, that new 
views in religion will be most likely to attract the 
attention of those, who are least prejudiced in favour 
of the old : that is to say, of the less religious ; and of 
persons, too, who have been less religious, in many 
instances, for the very reason, that they could not bear 
the errors of the popular faith. Nay, more ; it may 
be admitted that new views of religion, however true, 
will probably do injury to some. There are some most 
extraordinary confessions to this effect, from the lips 
of the Reformers. New views are liable to unsettle 
the minds that hastily receive them ; and some, that 
are averse to all religion and to all self-denial, may 
vaguely hope, that another doctrine would be more 
indulgent to their vices. Yes, and they may make it 
so ; for what good thing has not been abused ? This 
great subject, in fact, has been so treated and taught, 
that in religion, most of all, men are apt to show them- 
selves superficial and weak creatures. And it is not 
strange that those, who have dwelt long in darkness, 
should be dazzled and bewildered and led astray by 
the light, or that liberty should be a dangerous thing 
to be enslaved. What if Christianity had been judged 
by the state of the Corinthian Church ? 

And yet Christianity came as a religion of power 
and strictness, and so I maintain that it still is found 
to be in the form in which we hold it. If others, 
who are experimentally ignorant of it, may testify 
against it ; we, who have felt what it is, may be 
excused if we testify in its favour. And I know that 



CONCLUSION. 133 

I speak the language of hundreds and thousands, when 
I say that religion to us is the one theme of interest ; 
of unspeakable, undying interest. We would not 
exchange the sense we have of it, for thrones and 
kingdoms. To take it away, would be to take from 
us our chief light, blessing, and hope. We have felt 
the power of the world to come, and no language can 
tell what that power is, can tell the value of an 
immortal hope and prospect. We have heard the 
great and good teacher, and we feel that " never man 
spake like this man." By him, we trust that we have 
been brought nigh to God ; and this nearness consum- 
mates the infinite good, which we embrace in our 
religion. On all this I might dwell long and abund- 
antly ; but I will not trust myself to say, what I feel 
that I might say for many, lest I be accused of " the 
foolishness of boasting." And if even for what I do 
say, I am so accused, I must adopt the apostle's justi- 
fication, and say, I have been " compelled." For how 
can men, who feel that religion is the great resort of 
the mind, and the living interest, and the animating 
hope, consent to the charge, that all on this subject is 
cold and cheerless as death among them ! We should 
be ungrateful for the first of blessings, if we could be 
silent. We have communed with religion in sorrow, 
and it has comforted us ; in joy, and it has blessed 
us ; in difficulty and trouble, and it has guided and 
calmed us ; in temptations, and it has strengthened us ; 
in conscious guilt and error, and this religion has 
encouraged and comforted and forgiven us ; and we 
must testify our sense to its value. It is here that we 
have treasured up the joy and hope of our being ; it is 
here that we have poured out the fulness of our hearts ; 
and if this is to be cold and dead, we ask in the name 
of sense and truth, what is it to feel '/ If this is 
12 



134 



CURSORY OBSERVATIONS. 



philosophy, God give us more of this philosophy. Yes, 
it is philosophy, divine and heaven-descended ; it is 
truth immortal ; it is religion, which if it can be carried 
on within us, will, we are persuaded, through God's 
mercy, lead us to heaven. 

I have now completed the views which, in conclu- 
sion, I intended to give to some of the popular objec- 
tions to Unitarian Christianity. Let me warn every 
man, in close, to beware of taking any light and 
trifling views of the religion on which he founds his 
hope. If any views that ever enter our minds tend to 
slacken the obligations of virtue, or to let down the 
claims of piety, let us discard those views at once and 
for ever. Let us take a viper to our bosom sooner than 
lay a flattering unction to the soul, that will make it 
easier in sin. Sin is the sting of death, and it will kill 
and destroy all that is dear and precious to an immor- 
tal creature. Religion only is life and peace ; and it 
is also zeal, and fervour, and joy, and hope, and watch- 
fulness, and strictness, and self-denial, and patience 
unto the end. 



DISCOURSES AND REVIEWS. 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION WITH OTHER 
SUBJECTS CONSIDERED. 



I. 

I speak as to wise men : judge ye what I say. — 1 Cor. x. 15. 

It was an observation of an eminent expounder of 
the science of jurisprudence,* that " the reason of the 
law is the life of the law ; for though a man," says he, 
" can tell the law, yet if he know not the reason thereof, 
he shall soon forget his superficial knowledge. But 
when he findeth the right reason of the law, and so 
bringeth it to his natural reason that he comprehend- 
eth it as his own, this will not only serve him for the 
understanding of that particular case, but of many 
others." 

This comprehensive reason is as necessary in reli- 
gion, as in the law ; which, rightly considered, indeed, 
is but a part of the science of religion or rectitude. 
The great danger to the mind, indeed, in pursuing 
every science, is that of being narrow and technical, 
and so of losing truth, while it is gaining knowledge. 
For, truth is universal ; it is the conclusion derived 
from those facts, the possession of which we call 
knowledge. Truth, I say, is universal ; and religious 

* Lord Littleton. 

12* 



138 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



truth possesses this character as much as any other. 
What is true in religion, is true in everything else to 
which such truth is capable of being applied ; true in 
the law, true in moral philosophy, true in the prudence 
of life, true in all human action. 

From this position results the use of an instrument 
for religious investigation, to which I wish to invite 
your attention. The instrument I refer to is compa- 
rison. I invite you to compare religion with other 
things, to which it is analogous. Fairly to put this 
instrument into your hands, to give some examples of 
its use and application, will require a course of three 
or four lectures, which I shall give on Sunday even- 
ings. 

Let it not be supposed that there is anything new in 
this mode of investigation. On the contrary, it is so 
familiar, that it enters more or less into almost every 
religious discourse. It is justified by the practice of 
all sorts of religious and moral teachers. It is the only 
instrument used in that great work of Bishop Butler, 
entitled his Analogy. All I wish to do is, for a little 
time, to fix attention upon it. 

It is not pretended that this instrument is infallible. 
The degree of proof, to be gathered from any compari- 
son, depends on the closeness of the analogy. To this 
point, the closeness of the analogy, the main point in 
this kind of inquiry, I shall give the most discrimin- 
ating attention that I am capable of, and shall wish 
my hearers constantly to judge, as wise men, what I 
say. The instrument, I confess, is liable to abuse. 
To give an instance of this : I have heard preachers 
liken the case of the unconverted sinner to that of a 
man in a burning house, or in a pestilence, or in peril 
of shipwreck, and they have advocated and defended 
the utmost extravagance of spiritual fear and effort, on 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



139 



the ground that the sinner is in still greater clanger. 
Here is comparison, indeed, but no analogy. There is 
no analogy, that is to say, in the precise point on which 
the argument depends. There is analogy, indeed, in 
the danger, but not in the nature of the danger. In 
a burning house, or in a shipwreck, the peril is instant ; 
all that can be done for escape, must be done in an 
hour or a moment ; and men are justified in acting almost 
like distracted men at such a moment. But spiritual 
danger is of a different character; it is not all accu- 
mulated upon a given instant ; it is not one stupendous 
crisis in a man's life, but it spreads itself over his whole 
being. It is not, like the whelming wave, or the 
already scorching fire, to bring fright and agony into 
the mind ; on the contrary, the special characteristics 
of spiritual fear should be reflection, calmness, and 
intense thoughtfulness. That is to say, it is to be the 
action of the spiritual, and not of the animal nature. 
You perceive, therefore, that the instrument I am 
about to recommend to you, is to be used with great 
caution, with a wise discretion. In the use of it, I 
shall constantly hold myself amenable to that judg- 
ment of good sense, to which the apostle himself, in 
my text, appealed. Bishop Butler, in the great work 
before alluded to, limited the uses of analogy entirely 
to the purpose of defence. He maintained and showed, 
that certain facts in nature and in life were analogous 
to certain doctrines in the Bible ; and his argument 
was, not that the existence of the facts proved the 
truth of the doctrines, but simply that they took away 
all fair and philosophical objection from those doc- 
trines. Thus, if the consequences of a single sin often 
follow a man through life, if this is actually a part of 
God's administration of the affairs of this world, then 
there is no objection to that doctrine of our Scriptures, 



140 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



which declares that consequences of a life of sin shall 
follow the offender into another state. With Bishop 
Butler's views of what the doctrines of revelation are, 
I have nothing here to do. I have only to say, that I 
am willing to be governed by a similar caution. I 
wish to present to you certain rational views of reli- 
gion, as they appear to me, and these mainly of prac- 
tical religion ; and against the common allegations of 
insufficiency, shallowness, or untruth, in these views, 
I wish to appeal to what men allow to be sound and 
satisfactory and thorough, in other departments of 
human action and feeling. 

There is, however, one objection to this method of 
inquiry itself, which I must consider before I enter 
upon it. It is said that religion is God's work in the 
soul, a peculiar, if not a supernatural work; and hence 
it is inferred that religion is not to be judged of, on 
principles common to it with other subjects and quali- 
ties. I answer that the conclusion does not follow 
from the premises. I might deny the premises per- 
haps, in the sense in which they are put ; but for the 
purposes of the proposed inquiry I need not deny them. 
I may allow that religion is the special work of God in 
the soul, which it is in a certain sense, and yet I may 
fairly maintain that it is to be judged of like other 
principles in the soul. For all Christians, of a sound 
and reasonable mind, are now accustomed to admit, 
that God's work in the soul does not violate the laws 
of the soul ; that the influence of the Infinite Spirit, 
whatever it be, is perfectly compatible with the moral 
constitution of the being influenced. But how is man 
influenced in other things ? The answer is, by con- 
siderations, by reasons and motives, by fears and hopes. 
So is he influenced in religion. All moral influence, 
whether derived from Scripture, from preaching, from 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



141 



reflection, or from conscience, is one great and per- 
fectly rational appeal to man's moral nature ; and the 
result is to be judged of accordingly. What religion 
is true ; and what is true in the views presented of the 
received religion ; what are proper and just exhibitions 
of it ; what are the due and right means and methods 
of cultivating it ; and what are its claims upon us : 
all these matters are to be considered, as we consider 
other obligations, truths, developments of character 
and methods of improvement. It is no argument for 
unreasonableness, for impropriety of conduct or man- 
ners, for extravagance, fanaticism or folly, that the 
subject is religion, or that religion is the work of God 
in the soul. This, on the contrary, is the strongest of 
reasons for insisting that religion should be perfectly 
and profoundly sober, rational and wise. That which 
comes from the fountain of reason, and as its gift to a 
rational nature, will not, we may be sure, contradict 
the laws of that reason and that nature. 

This is a point to be insisted on, and the proposed 
discussion may have special advantages in this view. 
Indeed, I know of no other way in which the worst 
practical errors are to be removed from the Church, but 
by the application of the test in question ; by carrying 
religion entirely out from the walls of conventicles, and 
the pale of technical theology, and from all the narrow 
maxims of peculiar religious coteries and sects, into 
the broad field of common sense and sound judgment. 
The advocates, whether of a speculative system or of 
a practical economy in religion, can never tell how it 
looks, till they see it in this open light, and in its rela- 
tion to the whole surrounding world of objects. Kept 
within a certain circle and never looking beyond it, 
and holding that things may be true in that circle, 
which are true nowhere else, men may reason in that 



142 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



circle, and reason strongly, and reason for ever, and 
never advance one step towards broad, generous, uni- 
versal truth. Thus it has always been, that mistake, 
fanaticism, practical error in religious matters, have 
rested their claims on the peculiar, unusual, superna- 
tural character of the subject. Religious extravagance 
of every sort has always had its strong hold, within 
barriers that have shut out the common judgment and 
sense of the world. Nay, I may add, since I have 
spoken of comparing religion with other qualities of 
the mind, that there are many by whom it is yet to be 
learnt, that religion is a quality of the mind. They 
are apt to consider it as a gift and an influence, rather 
than as a quality, principle and part of the soul. They 
consider it as something superinduced, bestowed upon 
human nature, rather than as the great and just result 
of that nature. They do not feel as if it were some- 
thing dear to that nature ; something not forced upon 
its reluctant acceptance, not sustained in its rebellious 
bosom, but cherished within it, craved by it, welcome 
and precious to all its strongest affections and noblest 
faculties. So the many, I say, are not accustomed to 
regard it. They do not see it as the great develop- 
ment of the soul : but they see it as a communication. 
And seeing it as a communication, as coming, in some 
supernatural manner, from God, they are apt to set it 
apart from other qualities and pursuits. They do not 
deal freely with it. If they do not feel as if it were 
something above reason, they, at least, feel as if it 
were something with which reason may not strongly 
and fearlessly grapple ; as if it were too ethereal an 
essence for the plain dealing of common sense. To 
this plain dealing, however, it must be brought. To 
this we are justified in bringing it, by the clearest prin- 
ciples of all rational theology ; for all such theology 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



143 



admits, that God does no violence to the laws of 
human nature, when he works within it both to will 
and to do according to his good pleasure. And I say 
and repeat, that to this test of sober and judicious 
comparison, religion must come, if it is ever to be dis- 
abused of the errors that have burthened and enslaved 
it. How, otherwise, could you proceed, if you had to 
deal, for instance, with the absurdities of Hindoo 
superstition? You might try to approach it in other 
ways ; as, for instance, with solemn tones and solemn 
asseverations ; but you would find, at length, that you 
could do nothing else with it, but to bring it into com- 
parison with other principles and manifestations of 
human nature and human life. You would say, " this 
penance of yours, this hanging yourself from a tree, 
in a burning sun, to die, is absurd, useless, uncalled 
for by the Deity. Who ever thought of seeking hap- 
piness or- securing the friendship of any other being, in 
this way ?" And if he were to answer that religion is 
unlike every other principle in its exactions, and that 
God is not to be pleased as other beings are, you would 
undertake to show him, that the principle of goodness 
is everywhere the same ; that God, whose nature is 
goodness, cannot be pleased with pain for its own sake ; 
that he desires no sacrifice which can effect no good 
end. That is to say, you would endeavour to reason 
with the superstitious devotee, upon general principles : 
upon principles applicable alike to religion and to every 
other analogous subject. 

This is what I shall now attempt to do with religion, 
by proceeding to some particular instances. The 
instances, which I shall take up in the remainder of 
this discourse, belong to the department of first prin- 
ciples ; and in them I shall chiefly address the religious 
skeptic. 



144 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



I. In the first place, let us look at the very elements 
of religion. By some it is denied, that there are any 
such elements. They say that religion is altogether 
a matter of institution and appointment. They say 
that it has been imposed upon mankind by priests and 
by governments ; and but for these external influences, 
they say, that there never would have been such a 
thing as religion in the world. Let us look at these 
assumptions in the light of a comprehensive philoso- 
phy. 

Now, it is to be observed, that the basis of every 
other science and subject in the world is laid in certain 
indisputable first principles. In other words, there are 
certain undeniable facts, either in nature or in the 
mind, on which, as a foundation, every system of truth 
is built up. Thus in the natural sciences, in mine- 
ralogy, in chemistry, and botany and astronomy, there 
are certain facts in nature, which are received as the 
basis. These facts are generalized into laws, and 
these laws are formed into systems. Newton saw the 
apple fall, and from this fact he proceeded, till he had 
established the laws of planetary motion, and the 
sublime system of the universe. So in the abstract 
science of geometry, certain unquestionable truths or 
axioms are laid down ; and so in the science of the 
mind, certain irresistible emotions and acts of the mind 
are taken, as the ground of each of these departments 
of philosophy. Even the department of taste has its 
undeniable first truths. Now, the science or subject 
of religion has, in the same way, its indisputable first 
truths. In the mind, there are certain religious facts, as 
clearly manifested as any metaphysical facts, or any 
emotions of taste. But how do we come to the know- 
ledge of these latter classes of facts ? I answer, by 
experience, and by nothing else. And how do we come 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



145 



to the knowledge of the religious facts in the mind ? 
I answer, by the same means, and no other. 

What then is the conclusion ? Why, that religion 
has a foundation in our nature as truly as mental 
philosophy. A man may deny this ; he may resort to 
his presumptuous assertions, and say, that religion is 
nothing but an imposition, a dogma and a fancy. But 
he might just as well assert that reason is nothing but 
an imposition, and a dogma and a fancy. He may 
point to the diversities of religion, and tell us that every- 
thing is denied by one party or another, and thence 
infer that nothing can be true. But he might as well 
draw the same inference from the diversified forms, in 
which the principle of reason has presented itself, 
whether in the absurd conduct of life, or in the strange 
history of opinions. 

What then, I repeat, is the conclusion ? It is this. 
Religion is true ; I do not say that every religion is 
true. But I say that religion in general, is a true 
principle of human nature. I say, that there is a real 
science of religion, a deep-founded and unquestionable 
philosophy of religion, as truly as there is any other 
science or philosophy in the world. If experience is 
the test of truth, religion is true. If universality is 
the test of truth, religion is true. There never was a 
nation nor tribe found on earth, in which the feelings 
of conscience and of adoration were not found. And 
he, who is ever, at any moment, shaken in his primary 
religious convictions by the bold assaults of skepticism, 
may justly rally, and fairly and fearlessly say to his 
assailant, if any thing in the world is true, religion is 
true. 

II. So then do we lay the foundations of the religious 
principle ; and now let us proceed to consider, in the 
light proposed, the evidences of that religion, which we 
13 



146 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



receive as bearing the special sanction of Heaven. 
And the observation to be made is, that the evidences 
of Christianity are to be weighed, as other evidences 
are weighed. And they are, in fact, just such proofs 
as may be rendered familiar to us, by what passes in 
every court of justice. In the first place, there are the 
Christian witnesses ; and such witnesses, indeed, as 
were never produced in any other cause ; men not only 
of unimpeachable character, of great and acknowledged 
virtue, but who have given in their writings the most 
extraordinary example of the absence of all enthusiasm 
that the world can show; men, I say, and such men, 
who spent laborious and painful lives, and suffered 
bloody deaths, in attestation, not of some fancy or 
imagination in their own minds, not of their belief that 
they were inspired merely, but in attestation of certain 
manifest and miraculous facts. And then in the com- 
parison of their testimonies, we have the strongest 
corroboration of their honesty and truth. On the one 
hand, there are a few slight discrepancies between them, 
just sufficient to show that there could have been no 
collusion ; and on the other hand, numerous and 
evidently undesigned coincidences, both with them- 
selves and with contemporary profane writers, which 
put the strongest stamp of verisimilitude upon their 
narrations. And then, again, the moral character of 
these productions is such as to set their authors above 
all suspicion of disingenuity ; such as to show that 
dishonest and bad men could not have given birth to 
them ; and such, in fact, as to constitute a strong, 
independent argument for their divine origin. But I 
confine myself now to this one branch of the evidence, 
the testimony ; and I say that if such a weight of 
testimony were produced in a court of justice, all the 
records of judicial proceedings could show nothing 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



147 



stronger, or more satisfactory. I say that men are 
every day deciding and acting upon a tythe of the 
evidence that is offered to support the Christian religion. 
What if there is not anything amounting to the force 
of mathematical demonstration ? The case does not 
admit it ; and in the ordinary affairs of life, men do 
not demand it. Why shall they not, in religion, as in 
other things, act upon the evidence they have? Sup- 
pose that it is less clear to some than to others. 
Suppose, that it amounts with them only to a strong 
probability. Suppose that they have doubts. Do 
doubts paralyze them in other cases ? Does not a man 
make all sorts of sacrifices, become an exile, tread 
dangerous coasts, breathe tainted climes, for a distant 
and uncertain fortune ? But has any body told him 
that the wealth he seeks waits for him ? Has any 
miracle been wrought before his eyes? Has God 
assured him, beyond any doubt, of the fruition of his 
hopes ? Yet he ventures much, ventures all, for the 
chance of worldly fortune : can he venture nothing for 
the hope of heaven ? Let him walk in the way of the 
Christian precepts. That cannot harm him, whether 
there be a future life or not. Let his conduct follow 
the weight of evidence. No reasonable being can 
gainsay or condemn him, for being governed by the 
strongest probability. This is the only safe or wise 
course. "Let him do the will of God, and he shall 
know of the doctrine whether it be from God." If he 
will not do this, if he is averse to the strictness of 
Christian virtue, he has cause enough to suspect the 
source of his skepticism. Nay, more ; we have a right, 
in accordance with what is fairly claimed on other 
subjects, to demand of him, who would investigate the 
Christian evidences, a religious spirit, and a virtuous 
temper. He who should undertake to pronounce upon 



148 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



a great work of genius, a poem or a painting, without 
any cultivation or congeniality of taste, would be looked 
upon as an unqualified and presumptuous judge. By 
the same rule, he who would fairly examine the evi- 
dences of a pure system of religion, must, in reason, 
be a good and devout man ; else his investigation is 
nothing worth. Have infidels often considered this ? 
Have they generally approached the Christian evi- 
dences in this spirit? 

But let us take some notice, in the third place, and 
finally, of the Christian records. I say, then, that our 
Christian books are to be regarded, in some impor- 
tant respects, as other books are. Men, for instance, 
are not to take up the Bible and read it, as if they ex- 
pected it to do them good, or give them light, in any 
unusual or unknown way. They are not to expect 
any illumination in perusing the Scriptures, other than 
that of reason and piety. Some other may be given 
in extraordinary cases, but they are not to require 
miracles. They are not to expect to understand this 
book because it is the Bible, in any other way, or upon 
any other principles of interpretation, than they would 
use to gather the meaning of any ancient book. And 
as many portions of the Bible, the speculative and 
controversial parts particularly, are clothed in the 
polemic phraseology of an ancient age, and have 
taken their hue and form from ancient disputes, states 
of mind, customs of society, &c. ; as all this is true of 
some portions of Scripture, the unlearned reader can- 
not, without more information than most persons pos- 
sess, reasonably expect to understand those parts at all. 
Suppose that a plain reader, totally unacquainted with 
the systems of Plato or Aristotle, or with the Mani- 
chean philosophy, should, in perusing an ancient book, 
meet with a passage crowded with the terms and modes 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



149 



of thought borrowed from either of these systems. Can 
you doubt, that with the aid of any common sense he 
would at once say, " I do not understand this ?" Would 
he not justly conclude that he must read other books, 
and make himself more acquainted with the specula- 
tions of that ancient period, before he could understand 
the passage which had fallen under his notice? 

So he would judge of ancient profane writings, and 
so he ought to judge of ancient sacred writings. The 
wisdom that speaks in the two cases is different; but 
the method of interpreting that wisdom is the same in 
both. But so most Christian readers do not judge. 
They read the Bible, as if it were a modern book. 
Or, they feel as if it would dishonour the Bible, to 
suppose that any part of it were necessarily obscure or 
unintelligible to the unlearned reader. They look upon 
the Scriptures, as a direct revelation, or as the imme- 
diate and express word of God himself, rather than as 
a series of messages declaring, after the manner of the 
times, the will of God. And entertaining the former 
of these impressions, they rightly argue that a book, 
purporting to be a revelation to mankind, unless all 
men can readily understand it, is no revelation. But 
there can be no doubt, I presume, that this impression 
is a mistaken one. The sacred writers were commis- 
sioned to declare certain truths ; and they were left to 
declare them after their own manner, and the manner 
of the age ; and it is no more easy to understand the 
Bible, than it is to understand any ancient book. 
This conclusion must be admitted, whatever may be 
thought of the reasoning. Explain the doctrine of in- 
spiration as we may, it is an unquestionable truth, and 
every enlightened student of the Bible must know it, 
that there are considerable portions of it, which cannot 
be understood without much study, and without, to say 
13* 



150 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



the least, some learning, which the body of the people 
do not possess. Every sensible man, who has really 
studied his Bible, must know that this is the case with 
considerable portions of the Prophecies and Epistles. 
The people at large are reading these continually, and 
think to derive benefit from them, and do, no doubt, 
affix to them some vague meaning ; but they do not 
and cannot understand them. They comprehend what 
is practical for the most part, and all that is essential ;. 
but much of what is speculative and controversial, I 
repeat it, with their present knowledge, they do not 
and cannot understand. 

This may be a hard saying to many ; but I believe 
it ought not, being unquestionably true, to be with- 
holden. It may be an unpopular doctrine, but that 
circumstance, I hope, does not prove it unimportant. 
There certainly is a mistake on this subject; and the 
greatness of the error is but the greater reason for 
correcting it. Besides, the error is far from being 
harmless. This constant reading of what is not well 
comprehended ; this attempt to grasp ideas which are 
perpetually escaping through ancient and unintelligible 
modes of thought and phraseology; this formal and 
forced perusal of obscure chapters with a sort of 
demure reverence, tends to throw dulness, doubt and 
obscurity over all our conceptions of religion. The 
Bible, too, instead of being a bond of common faith and 
fellowship to Christians, is made an armory for polemics. 
And there are some controversies among the body of 
Christians, which can never be intelligently and pro- 
perly settled, till they qualify themselves in a better 
manner to understand the Scriptures. And yet multi- 
tudes of men and women are confidently deciding 
controversies on the most difficult questions of philo- 
logy and interpretation, who never read — not Hebrew 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



151 



nor Greek — but who never read a book on criticism, 
who never read a book on ancient customs, who never 
read a book on the circumstances of the primitive age, 
on the difficulties and disputes prevailing, on the Jew- 
ish prejudices or the Gentile systems of philosophy: 
and if I were asked what I would give for the critical 
judgment of these men and women, I answer nothing 
— nothing at all. I derogate nothing from their 
general intelligence. And their judgment may be 
good, even on the point in question, as far as their 
common sense will carry them ; and upon the general 
stream of the Scriptures, they may judge well, and 
may come, on the ivhole, to a right conclusion. But 
upon deep questions of criticism, they ought not to 
pretend to judge. I give that credit to the modesty of 
many among us, as to presume that they do not un- 
dertake to decide upon matters of this sort; and to 
those who have not this modesty, it may be fairly 
recommended as the first step of a good and sound 
judgment. 

I would particularly guard what I have said on this 
subject from injurious misapprehensions. I certainly 
do not discourage the reading of the Scriptures. I 
only urge the needful preparation for it in regard 
to those parts which are hard to be understood. I do 
not say that unlearned Christians cannot understand 
their religion ; for their religion, in substance, is con- 
tained in passages that are level to the humblest ap- 
prehension. I do not disparage the Bible. Its value 
consists in the body of its undisputed truths and reve- 
lations. Besides, be the case as it may, it can be no 
disparagement of the sacred volume to state what it is. 
And that it does require study, and learning, to under- 
stand portions of it ; what do all the labours of learned 
men, what do innumerable volumes of commentaries, 



152 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION 



and whole libraries of sacred criticism show, if they 
do not show this ? Why all these studies, let us ask, 
if unlearned men can understand the difficult and 
doubtful passages of their Bibles ? 

The truth is, in my judgment, that the body of man- 
kind never ought to have been disturbed with those 
theological disquisitions which involve or require a 
deep knowledge of criticism, any more than they are 
with the subtilties of the law, or with the abstruse 
speculations of philosophy, the disputes of anatomists, 
metaphysicians and men of science. General readers, 
not to say those who read not at all, are just as un- 
able to understand one as the other. There are ques- 
tions in religion, undoubtedly, which are proper for the 
general mass of readers. And there are points, doubt- 
less, connected with every question, which are suitable 
for popular discussion. There must be discussion ; and 
since men cannot agree, there must be dispute. Let 
there be controversy then ; and let it range from the 
highest to the lowest subjects. All I would contend 
for is, that those controversies, which are addressed 
to the body of the people, be such as the people are 
prepared to understand ; and that more curious ques- 
tions be confined in religion, as in other things, to the 
learned. This reasonable discrimination would have 
cut off many disputes which, among the mass of the 
people, are perfectly useless, and might have saved us 
from some of our unhappy dissensions. 

In fine, and to sum up my observations, let Religion 
— I do not say now as a matter of experience and 
practice — but let Religion, in its words, its subjects, 
and its controversies, be treated as other things are ; 
as the Law, Medicine, or any of the Sciences. Let 
what is practical, what is easily understood, what the 
simple and sound judgment of a man can compass. 



WITH OTHER SUBJECTS. 



153 



be commended in religion, as in science, to all who 
can and will read it. Let what is abstruse, what is 
hard to be understood, what belongs to the department 
of profound criticism, be left for those who have op- 
portunity, time and learning for it. Let others read 
their Avritings as much as they please; but let them 
not judge till they read ; let not their confidence out- 
run their knowledge. I think this is safe advice. I 
cannot conceive of any possible harm it can do. I be- 
lieve it would do much good. I believe that it would 
tend to the promotion of a practical and affectionate 
piety among us ; and I think, moreover, that it would 
do this special good : it would lead men to rest their 
religious hopes and fears, not on matters of doubtful 
disputation, but on those essential, moral, plain, prac- 
tical grounds, which are the great foundations of piety 
and virtue. 

I have now presented in a single light, the light of 
analogy, the first principles of religion, and the evi- 
dence's and records of that particular dispensation of 
religion, which, as Christians, we have embraced. In 
my next lecture, I shall proceed to examine, in the 
same way, what is usually considered as the begin- 
ning of religion, or rather of religious character, in 
the human mind ; in other words, the doctrine of 
conversion. 



II. 



ON CONVERSION. 

Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God. 

John iii. 3. 

It will help us to understand the subject of Con- 
version, and will prepare us to pursue the analogy 
proposed in this series of Discourses, to take a brief 
historical view of that language, by which, among 
theologians, the doctrine has been most commonly 
expressed : I mean that language which is founded on 
the figure of a new birth. Three views are to be taken 
of it : first, of its signification among the Jews ; sec- 
ondly, of its use among the early Christian teachers ; 
and thirdly, of its application to modern Christian 
communities. And corresponding to this distinction, 
there are three kinds of conversion to be considered ; 
the Jewish, the ancient Christian conversion, and that 
which is to be urged among men, already Christian in 
their education and general belief. 

Let me observe, in passing, that the phrases, " born 
again," "new-creation," &c, are not the only expres- 
sions in the New Testament which are applied to the 
same subject : for men were required to be changed, 
to be turned from the error of their ways — were said 
to have passed from darkness to light, from the power 
of sin and Satan to the service of God and the wis- 
dom of the just. In short, a very great variety of 
language was used to describe the process of becoming 
a good man, and a follower of Christ. 



CONVERSION. 



155 



But the figurative expressions just referred to, have 
been most constantly used in modern times, to express 
that change which is meant by conversion. The rea- 
son for this, I suppose, is obvious. There has been a 
striking and manifest disposition, ever since the primi- 
tive simplicity departed from religion, to regard and 
treat it as a mystery: and therefore the most obscure 
and mysterious expressions have, in preference, been 
adopted to set it forth. The figure in question, I 
shall soon have occasion to observe, is less adapted to 
set forth the spiritual nature of religion, than almost 
any of the representations that are current in the New 
Testament. 

On every account, therefore, it is desirable that this 
language should be explained, and that the explana- 
tion should be fixed in our minds, even though it 
should require some repetition to do it. 

What, then, is the meaning of the phrase " being 
born again?" 

I. When our Saviour said to the inquiring Nic- 
odemus, "Except a man be born again," we may 
well suppose, that he did not use language either new 
or unintelligible to him. Nor would it comport with 
a proper view of our Saviour's character, to suppose 
that he used the language of mystery. Nicodemus, 
indeed, affected to think it mysterious, saying, " how 
can a man be born when he is old ?" It was not, 
however, because he did not understand, but because 
he did understand it. For the language in question 
was familiar at that day ; it was in the mouth of every 
Jew, much more in that of a master in Israel. We 
learn, from the Jewish writers of that day, that the 
phrase, "bora again," was at that time, and had been 
all along, applied to proselytes from paganism. A 
convert, or a proselyte to the Jewish religion, was cur- 



156 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



rently denominated, " one born again," a "new-born 
child," " a new creature." This language they adopted, 
doubtless, to express what they considered to be the 
greatness of the distinction and favour implied in being 
a Jew. It was nothing less than a "new creation." 
In the apparent misapprehension of Nicodemus, there- 
fore, I see nothing but the astonishment natural to a 
Jew, on being told that he, favoured of God as he had 
thought himself; that he, one of the chosen people, 
must himself pass through another conversion, another 
proseiytism, in order to see the kingdom of God. 

But to revert to the phrases, which conveyed to 
Nicodemus this unwelcome truth ; I say that they 
referred originally to proseiytism to the Jewish religion. 
This was the known signification of these phrases, at 
the time. There can be no dispute or question on 
this point. Something like this use of these phrases, 
was common among other nations at that period, as 
among the Romans, the change from slavery to 
citizenship was denominated, "a new creation." It 
appears, then, as I have already observed, that this 
expression is not the best adapted to set forth the spir- 
itual nature of religion, since it was originally used to 
describe a visible fact, an outward change. 

II. But let us proceed from the Jewish use of this 
language, to the adoption of it among the first teachers 
of Christianity. It was natural that the Christian 
teachers, in calling men from an old to a new dispen- 
sation, from the profession of an old, to the reception 
of a new religion, should take up those expressions, 
which before had b£en applied to an event precisely 
similar. There was a visible change of religion 
required both of Jews and Pagans, the adoption of a 
new faith and worship. It was an event publicly 
declared and solemnized by the rite of baptism. 



CONVERSION. 



157 



Far be it from me to say, that the Gospel required 
nothing but an outward profession and proselytism. 
This was too true of Judaism, though Avithout doubt 
there w T ere devout individuals among the Jews, who 
had more spiritual views. But it was too true of that 
nation of formalists, that they desired little more than 
to make proselytes to their rites and ceremonies. And 
on this account our Saviour upbraids them, in that 
severe declaration, " Ye compass sea and land to make 
one proselyte, and when he is made, ye make him 
two-fold more a child of hell than yourselves :" ye pro- 
selyte him to your own proud, Pharisaical, and 
conceited system of cabalistic notions and dead form- 
alities. But surely, if there ever were upon earth, 
teachers who most strenuously insisted upon a spiritual 
renovation, they were Jesus and his Apostles. Still, 
however, we are not to forget, that their language, in 
reference to the change required, implied an outward 
proselytism, as well as a spiritual renovation ; implied 
the reception of a new religion, considered as a matter 
of speculation, faith and visible worship, as well as the 
adoption of inward feelings, accordant with the spirit 
and precepts of this religion. Both of these things 
they must have demanded by their very situation, as 
teachers of Christianity. 

III. The way is now prepared to consider what 
meaning the language of our text is to have, when 
applied to members of Christian communities in mo- 
dern times. And the discrimination to be made here 
is perfectly evident. One part of the meaning, an- 
ciently attached to this language, fails entirely : the 
other stands in the nature of things, and must stand 
for ever. What fails, is what relates to the outward 
change. There can be no proselytism to a new faith 
among us ; no conversion to a new worship ; no adop- 
14 



158 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 

tion of a new system, nor adherence to a new sect. 
All the conversion, therefore, that can now take place, 
is of a purely moral or spiritual nature. It is a change 
of heart, a change of character, of feelings, of habits. 
Where the character, the feelings, and habits are 
wrong, and in such proportion as they are wrong, this 
change is to be urged as the very condition of salva- 
tion, of happiness, of enjoying peace of conscience, 
God's forgiveness, and the reasonable hope of heaven. 
" Except a man be born again, he cannot see the king- 
dom of God." 

The subject, in this view of it, would seem to be 
exceedingly plain. Conversion is no mysterious doc- 
trine. It is no peculiar injunction or precept of the 
Christian religion. It is the injunction and precept of 
every religion. The bad man must become a good 
man ; the sinful must repent ; the vicious must reform ; 
the selfish, the passionate and sensual, must be pure 
and gentle and benevolent ; or they cannot be happy 
here or hereafter. This, I say, is no mysterious doc- 
trine. It is what every man's conscience preaches to 
him. Strange would it be, if, in a religion so simple 
and reasonable as ours, that on which everything in 
our moral welfare hangs should be a mystery ; strange, 
if a stumbling-block should be placed at the very en- 
trance to the way of religion. 

But simple, obvious and unquestionable as these 
views of conversion are, there is no little difficulty in 
obtaining for them a general assent, or in causing them 
to be fully carried out in the minds of those who 
embrace them. The true and natural view of the 
subject is confounded with the ancient features of it. 
We are thinking of something like a proselytism, of a 
time and an epoch, and a great experience, and a sud- 
den change. We have, perhaps, been taught all this 



CONVERSION. 



159 



from our youth up. We have heard about obtaining 
religion, as if it were something else than obtaining 
inward habits of devotion and self-government, and 
disinterestedness and forbearance and all goodness, 
which it takes a life fully to acquire and confirm. We 
have heard about obtaining religion, or obtaining a 
change, or obtaining a hope, as if it were the work of 
a month, or a day, or a moment. It demands years, or 
a life, to obtain a great property, or to obtain learning, 
or to build up a distinguished reputation ; while the 
far greater work of gaining a holy mind, a pure and 
good heart, you would suppose, from what you often 
hear, could be accomplished in a single week, or hour. 

I do not forget that religion has its beginning; and 
if the language in common use was, that at such a 
time, a man began to be religious, instead of having 
become so, I should have no objection to it. I do not 
deny that there are epochs in religious experience, 
times of deeper reflection, of more solemn impression 
and more earnest prayer; times of arousing to the 
moral faculties, of awakening to the conscience, of 
concern and solicitude about the interests of the 
soul; and I would to God, these times were more 
frequent in the experience of us all! It was in con- 
formity with this view, that Whitfield said, that "He 
wished he could be converted a thousand times every 
day." I do not deny, then, that there are epochs in 
religious feeling. On the contrary, I believe that the 
whole progress of every mind and of every life, may, 
to a considerable extent of its history, be dated from 
certain epochs. A man will find it to have been so in 
his mind and in his studies. Certain impressions have 
been made upon him at certain periods, in consequence 
of which he has taken up some new study, or pursued 
the old with greater zeal; certain impressions which 



160 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



have given a bias and character to his whole mind. 
And those who are pursuing more visible acquisitions 
than those of the mind, may have found it so with 
them. At some certain period they began this work; 
and at other periods they have been stimulated to new 
diligence ; they have resolved to use greater economy, 
industry and method. There is a beginning, then, 
and there are epochs in every pursuit; but w T ho ever 
thought of confounding, as men do in religion, the 
beginning with the end, the epoch with the progress, 
the starting place with the goal of attainment? Who 
ever thought of calling the first enthusiasm of the 
youthful student, learning ; or the first crude essays 
of the young artist, skill ? 

Does it seem to any one, that I do injustice to the 
popular impressions about religion 1 Am I reminded 
that, although men do say that they get religion at a 
certain time, yet that they are taught, also, that they 
must grow in this, that they have acquired only the 
first elements, and must go on to perfection? Still I 
say, that the language is wrong ; the language, which 
implies, that he who has acquired the first elements of 
such a thing, has acquired the thing itself, is wrong. 
But. I say more. I say it is a language that leads to 
wrong. A man, Avho uses it, will be apt to think he 
has obtained more than he really has obtained. He 
will be apt to think more highly of himself, than he 
ought to think. His language implies too much, and 
of course it is liable to puff him up with pride; to 
make him think well of himself, and speak slightly of 
others, rather than to awaken in him a proper and true 
humility; and to inspire a rash confidence and a 
visionary joy, rather than a just sobriety and a reason- 
able self-distrust. And I say still farther, and repeat, 
that there are false impressions about religion itself, 



CONVERSION. 



161 



derived from these notions of conversion. Religion is 
not felt to be that result of patient endeavour which it 
is. It is made a thing too easy of acquisition. He 
who, in one week, in one day, in one hour, nay, in one 
moment, can pass through a change that insures 
heaven to him, has reduced the mighty work to a light 
task indeed. He may boast over those who are taking 
the way of patient and pains-taking endeavour; he 
may charge them with the guilt of insisting much on 
a good moral life ; but certainly he should not boast of 
his own way as the most thorough and laborious. 

But I must dwell a little more particularly, in regard 
to conversion, on that comparison which I proposed to 
make between religion and other acquisitions of the 
mind. And the special point to be considered, the only 
one, indeed, about which there is any difference of 
opinion, is the alleged suddenness of conversion. I 
have already said that this is a feature of the change 
in question, which is borrowed from the ancient con- 
version, and borrowed too, from the outward and 
visible part of it. I now say that it cannot appertain 
to what is inward and spiritual. No change of the 
inward mind and character can be sudden. The very 
law T s of the mind forbid it. 

But I must not fail to show you that the comparison 
I am about to make is founded on the strictest analogy. 
It will be said, I know, that the change we are 
speaking of is unlike any other, and therefore, that the 
ordinary processes of the mind furnish no analogy for 
it. But in what is it unlike ? It is a change ; a change 
of heart ; a change in the affections, dispositions, habits 
of the soul. Moreover, it is a change effected in view 
of motives. A man becomes a good man, not blindly, 
not irrationally, but for certain reasons. He feels that 
the evil course is dangerous, and therefore he resolves 
14* 



162 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



to turn from it. He believes that there is happiness in 
religion, and therefore he seeks it. More than all, he 
feels that he ought to be a good man, and therefore he 
strives to be so. But still it may be said, there is a 
difference ; and that the difference consists in this ; 
that conversion is wrought in the soul by the special 
act of God; that the work is supernatural; that the 
change is a miracle. Grant that it be so. Suppose it 
to be true, perhaps it is true, that the secret reluctance 
of the mind to resist its wrong tendencies, and to 
restrain its evil passions is such, that a special act of 
God is always exerted to put it in the right way. But 
will God, who made the soul, who formed every part 
of its curious and wonderful mechanism, derange the 
operations of that soul, in order to save it? Let any 
one say, if he pleases, that it is a dead soul, a mechan- 
ism without any motion, and that nothing but a special 
impulse from its Former can ever set it in motion. 
But when it does move, will it not move in obedience 
to the laws of its nature ? This, be it observed, is all 
that we say, to make out the assumed analogy. Let 
the cause of its operations be what it will, we say that 
the laws of its operations will be always the same ; in 
other words, that the religious action of the soul takes 
place after the same manner, follows the same pro- 
cesses, as all other action of the soul. This, certainly, 
is the testimony of all experience. No one finds 
himself becoming religious under any other influence 
than that of motives of some sort. No man finds it 
an easier or speedier work to become a Christian, than 
to pass from ignorance to learning, from indolence of 
mind to activity, from low to lofty tastes, or from any 
one state of mind to any other. Our conclusion, then, is 
based on facts ; it is therefore the dictate of philosophy ; 



CONVERSION. 



163 



and it certainly is, so far as I know, the doctrine of ail 
rational theology. 

The processes of religious experience, therefore, are 
to be judged of like the processes of all other experi- 
ence. Suppose, then, that you knew a man who was 
indolent in spirit and infirm of purpose ; and that you 
had sought and found the means, at some favouring 
moment, to arouse him from his lethargy, and to put 
him in the path of action. Would you say that in the 
hour of his first impression, of his first resolution, he 
had become a man of energy and firmness ? Nay, 
how long would it probably be, before he could be justly 
said to bear that character? Or, suppose that you 
knew a parent who neglected the care of his children, 
and that, inviting him some day to your apartment, 
you had, by many reasonings, so impressed his mind 
with the dangers of this course of neglect, that he had 
resolved to amend ; and suppose that by the aid of 
many such impressions and resolutions, he should, at 
length, become a good parent. Would you say that 
you had sent him from your house that day, a good 
parent? If you did so, I am sure that your sober 
neighbours would hold your language to be very 
strange, and would not a little suspect you of being no 
better than a credulous enthusiast. Or suppose, once 
more, that having a friend who was devoid of all taste, 
you should suddenly open a gallery of pictures and 
statues to him, and thus rouse the dormant faculty. 
Would you say, on the strength of that first impulse 
to improvement, he had become a man of taste ? 
Why, then, shall it be said, that a bad man, in bare 
virtue of one single hour of religious impressions, hag 
become a good man ? Religious affections have no 
growth peculiar to themselves, no other growth than 
all other affections. 



164 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



The phrase most frequently used to describe the 
suddenness of conversion, is that of obtaining religion. 
It is said that, at a certain time, a man has " obtained 
religion." Now I am persuaded that, if we should 
separate religion into its parts, or view it under its 
practical aspects, no such phrase could be found, at 
any given moment, to apply to it. What would be 
thought of it, if it were said that, at any one moment, 
a man had obtained devotion, or a gentle disposition ! 
Let a man undertake the contest with his anger ; and 
how long will it take to subdue that passion to gentle- 
ness and meekness ? How long will it be, before he 
will stand calm and unmoved, when the word of insult 
breaks upon his ear, or the storm of provocation beats 
upon his head ! Or let him endeavour to acquire a 
habit of devotion ; and how many times will he have 
occasion bitterly to lament that his thoughts of God 
are so few and cold ; that he is so slow of heart to 
commune with the all-pervading presence that fills 
heaven and earth ! Perhaps years will pass on, and 
he will feel that he is yet but beginning to learn this 
great wisdom, and to partake of this unspeakable joy. 
Or to take a word still more practical ; what would 
you think of a man who should say, that, at a certain 
time, he had obtained virtue ? " What idea," you 
would exclaim, " has this man of virtue ? Some 
strange and visionary idea surely !" you would say, 
" something different from the notion, which all other 
men have of virtue." I cannot help thinking that this 
instance detects and lays open the whole peculiarity 
of the common impression about a religious conversion. 
Virtue implies a habit of feeling and a course of life. 
It is the complexion of a man's whole character, and 
not one particular and constrained posture of the feel- 
ings. Virtue is not a thing that walks the stage for 



CONVERSION. 



165 



an hour, with a crowd around it ; it walks in the quiet 
and often lonely paths of real life. Virtue, in short, is 
a rational, habitual, long-continued course of feelings 
and actions. And just as much is religion all this. 
Religion is just as rational, habitual, abiding. What 
do I say ? Religion and virtue are the same thing in 
principle. Religion involves virtue as a part of itself. 
And in that part of it which relates to God, it is still 
just as rational surely, and habitual and permanent in 
the mind, as m that part of it which relates to man. 
That is to say, piety is just as much so as virtue. 
And it is therefore as great and strange a mistake, for 
a man to say, that he obtained religion at a certain 
time, as it would be to say, that at a certain time he 
obtained virtue. Neither of them can be obtained so 
suddenly. 

To sum up what I have said ; conversion originally 
meant two things, an outward proselytisin and an in- 
ward change. It was the former of these only that 
w T as, or could be sudden and instantaneous. An 
idolater came into the Christian assembly and pro- 
fessed his faith in the true God, and in Jesus, as his 
messenger. This, of course, was done at a particular 
time. But this meaning of the term has no application 
to Christian communities at the present day. Or there 
was a certain time, when the Pagan or the Jew became 
convinced of the truth of the Christian religion, and 
therefore embraced it as his own. And hence it was 
that faith, rather than love, became the grand repre- 
sentative and denomination of Christian piety. This 
faith, like every result in mere reasoning, might have 
its birth and its complete existence on a given and 
assignable day, when some miracle was performed 
before its eyes, or some extraordinary evidence was 
presented. But these ideas evidently cannot apply to 



166 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



nations brought up in the forms and faith of Chris- 
tianity. 

Anciently, then, conversion was sudden. It was so 
from the very necessity of the case. But from the 
same necessity of the case it cannot be so now. That 
which was sudden in conversion, the change of cere- 
monies, of faith, of worship, of religion as a system, 
fails in its application to us ; while that which remains, 
the spiritual renovation of the heart, is the very reverse 
of sudden ; it is the slowest of all processes. 

The notice of one or two objections, that may be 
made to the views now stated, will, I think, clear up 
all further difficulties with the subject : and with this, 
I shall conclude my discourse. 

In the first place, if the bad man, when he resolves 
and begins to be a good man, is not a good man and 
a Christian, it may be asked, what is he ? and what is 
to become of him, if he dies in this neutral state? 
That is to say, if as a bad man he is not to be con- 
demned to misery, nor as a good man, to be raised to 
happiness, what is the disposition to be made of his 
fat ure state? 

To the first question, what is he ? I answer, that 
he is just a man who resolves and begins to be good, 
and that is all that he is. And to the second question, 
I reply, that he shall be disposed of, not according to 
our technical distinctions, but according to the exact 
measure of the good or evil that is in him. Let us 
bring these questions to the test of common sense. If an 
ignorant man, who resolves and begins to learn, is not 
a learned man, what is he, and what will be his fate? 
If a passionate man, resolving and beginning to be 
meek, is not a meek man, what is he, and what is to 
become of him, in the great and just retribution of 
character ? Do not these questions present and solve 



CONVERSION. 



167 



all the difficulties involved in the objection? They are 
difficulties that belong- to a system of theology, which 
regards all mankind as either totally evil and unre- 
generate, or essentially regenerate and good ; a system 
which appears to me as much at war with common 
sense and common experience, as would be that system 
of practical philosophy, which should account all 
men to be either poor or rich, either weak or strong, 
either miserable or happy, and admit of no transition 
states from one to the other. 

In the next place, it may possibly be objected that 
the views, which I have advanced of a change of 
heart as slow and gradual, are lax and dangerous. 
Men, it may be said, upon this ground, will reason 
thus. "Since religion is the work of life, we need not 
concern ourselves. The days and years of life are 
before us, and we can attend to religion by and by." 
But because religion is the work of a whole life, is that 
a reason for wasting a fair portion of the precious and 
precarious season? Because religion is the work of 
every instant, is that a reason for letting many of 
them pass unimproved ? Because the work of religion 
cannot be done at once, because it requires the long 
progress of days and years, because life is all too short 
for it; is that a reason for never beginning? Because, 
in fine, the promise of heaven depends upon a character 
which it takes a long time to form, is that holding out 
a lure to ease and negligence? I know of no doctrine 
more alarming to the negligent than this; that the 
Christian virtue, on which the hope of heaven depends, 
must be the work not of a moment, but, at the least, 
of a considerable period of time. 

Furthermore: that which is never commenced, can 
never be done. That which is never begun, can never 
be accomplished. Be it urged upon every one, then, 



1G8 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 

that he should begin. Be it urged, with most solemn 
admonition, upon the negligent and delaying. I care 
not with how much zeal and earnestness he enters 
upon the work, if he will but remember, that in any 
given week or month he can only begin. I speak not 
against a sober and awakened solicitude, against the 
most solemn convictions, against the most anxious 
fears, the most serious resolutions, the most earnest and 
unwearied prayers. It is a work of infinite moment 
that we have to do. It is an infinite welfare that is at 
stake. It is as true now as it ever was, that "except 
a man be born again," barn from a sensual to a 
spiritual life, born from moral indolence and sloth to 
sacred effort and watchfulness and faith, born from a 
worldly to a heavenly hope, he cannot see the kingdom 
of God. No matter what we call it ; conversion, 
regeneration, or amendment; it is the great thing. It 
is the burden of all religious instruction. Let no one 
be so absurd or so childish, as to say, that conversion 
is not preached among us, because the words " regene- 
ration," "new creation," "born again," are not 
continually upon our lips. We use these words 
sparingly, because they are constantly misapprehended. 
But the thing; the turning from sin to holiness, the 
forsaking of all evil ways by repentance, the necessity 
of being pure in order to being happy here and here- 
after; what else is our preaching, and your faith? 
What, but this, is the object of every religious institu- 
tion and precept and doctrine? What, but this, is 
every dictate of conscience and every command of 
God and every admonition of providence? For what, 
but this, did Jesus die, and for what else is the spirit 
of God given? What, but this, in fine, is the interest 
of life, and the hope of eternity? 

My friends, if I can understand any distinctions, the 



CONVERSION. 



169 



difference between the prevailing ideas of conversion, 
and those which I now preach to you, is, that the 
latter are out of all comparison the most solemn, 
awakening and alarming. If the work of preparing 
for heaven could be done in a moment, then might it 
be done at any moment, at the last moment ; and the 
most negligent might always hope. I cannot conceive 
of any doctrine more gratifying and quieting to negli- 
gence or vice, than this. If in candour we were not 
obliged to think otherwise, it would seem as if it had 
been invented on purpose to relieve the fears of a 
guilty, procrastinating conscience. But our doctrine, 
on the contrary, preaches nothing but alarm to a self- 
indulgent and sinful life. It warns the bad man that 
the time may come, when, though he may most earn- 
estly desire to prepare for heaven, it will be all too late. 
It tells him that no work of a moment can save him. 
As we tell the student preparing for a strict examina- 
tion, that he must study long before he can be ready ; 
that no momentary struggle or agony will do it ; so we 
tell him who proposes to be examined as a disciple of 
Christ, a pupil of Christianity, that the preparation 
must be the work of years, the work of life. My 
friends, I beg of you to ponder this comparison. It 
presents to you the naked truth. He, who would 
rationally hope for heaven, must found that hope not 
on the work of moments, but on the work of years ; 
not on any suddenly acquired frame of mind, but on 
its enduring habit ; not on a momentary good resolu- 
tion, but on its abiding result ; not on the beginning 
of his faith, but on its end, its completion, its perfec- 
tion. 

15 



III. 



ON THE METHODS OF OBTAINING AND EXHIBITING 
RELIGIOUS AND VIRTUOUS AFFECTIONS. 

And when thou art converted, strengthen thy brethren. 

Luke xxii. 32. 

I am to discourse this evening, on the methods of 
obtaining, and of exhibiting religious and virtuous 
affections. In selecting the text, I do not mean to say 
that it covers the whole ground of this two-fold subject; 
but I have chosen it, partly because I wish to connect 
the first topic before us directly with my last discourse, 
and because the second topic, the methods of exhibit- 
ing religion, is distinctly presented, though not fully 
embraced by the injunction, " strengthen thy brethren." 

Let us now proceed to these topics ; how we are to 
become religious ; and how we are to show that we 
are so. On each of these questions, it is true, that a 
volume might be written ; and you will easily infer 
that I should not have brought them into the same 
discourse, if I had any other object than to survey 
them in a single point of view. That point, you are 
apprised, is the analogy of religion to other subjects, 
or to other states of mind. 

To the question, then, how we are to obtain religious 
and virtuous affections and habits, the answer is, just 
as we obtain any affections and habits, Avhich require 
attention and effort in order to their acquisition. They 
ought to be cultivated in childhood, just as the love of 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



171 



nature, or the habit of study, or any other proper affec- 
tion, or state of mind is cultivated. But if they are 
not ; if, as is too often the case, a man grows up an 
irreligious or vicious man, then, the first step towards 
a change of heart is serious reflection, and the next 
step is vigorous effort. The man must meditate, and 
pray, and watch, and strive. There is no other way 
to become good and pious, than this. There is no 
easier way. 

And this is the point at which I wished to connect 
the topic under consideration with my last discourse. 
For it is not only true, that the demand for long con- 
tinued effort, for a series of patient endeavours, as the 
passport to heaven, is more strict than the demand for 
a momentary change ; but the practical results of the 
difference are likely to have the most direct and serious 
bearing on the question before us. The question is, 
how is a man to become religious and good ? To this 
question, there are two answers. One is, that a man 
is to become religious and good by passing through a 
sudden change ; a change which, if not miraculous, 
has no precedent nor parallel in all other human 
experience. The other answer is, that a man is to 
become religious and good, just as he is to become wise 
in learning, or skilful in art, so far as the mode is con- 
cerned : that is, by the regular and faithful application 
of his powers to that end, by the repetition of humble 
endeavours, by the slow and patient forming of habits, 
by little acquisitions made day after day, by continual 
watchfulness and effort, and the seeking of heavenly 
aid. In the former case, the thing that a man looks 
for, is a sudden and extraordinary change in his affec- 
tions, wrought out by a special influence from above. 
And although much is to be done afterwards ; yet till 
this is done, nothing is done. Much is to be done 



172 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



afterwards, it is true, as a matter of duty; but nothing 
more is necessary to make out the title to heaven. 
There is to be a progressive sanctification as a conse- 
quence of the change ; but salvation depends on the 
change itself. Everything turns upon this mysterious 
point of conversion. 

Now, can I be mistaken in thinking, that such a 
reference to this point must tend to derange the whole 
system of rational motives ? Must it not take oft the 
pressure and urgency of the natural inducements to 
act? Suppose, to resume the comparison, which I 
made in the close of my last discourse, that a man has 
before him a certain study to which he ought to attend. 
He is, perhaps, to be examined upon it a year hence, 
and on this examination is to depend his introduction 
into professional life. And to make the parallel com- 
plete, suppose that he is averse to study. He is 
indolent. He puts off the matter to-day, and to-mor- 
row ; "one, two or three weeks pass, and he has done 
nothing. But all the while the conviction is pressing 
harder and harder upon him, that this will never do ; 
that he must begin ; and at length he does begin, and 
proceed, and persevere ; nay, he comes to like his task , 
he enjoys his industry more than ever he enjoyed his 
indolence ; he finishes the work, and gains an honour- 
able place in a learned profession. Now, this man 
was placed under the natural and healthful influence 
of motives ; and it is under such influences I contend, 
and through such processes, that a man is to become 
a Christian. But suppose that this man, the candidate 
for literary honours, had been looking for some sudden 
and extraordinary change in his mind, which was to 
take place, when, or how, he could not tell ; it might 
be in the first month, or in the second, or even in the 
eleventh month of his probation ; a change, too, with- 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



173 



out which nothing could avail him, and with which, 
all was safe. Does not eveiy one see that the pressure 
of ordinary motives is nearly taken off? Does not 
every one see, that a man so circumstanced is very 
likely to go on, without ever applying himself thor- 
oughly and resolutely to the work in hand ? 

And what else, I am tempted to ask, is to account 
foi the apathy and neglect of multitudes towards the 
greatest of all concerns ? Do not tell me, my brethren, 
that you have escaped this error, because you have 
embraced more rational ideas of conversion. It is an 
error, I fear, which has infected the religion of the 
whole world. Almost all men are expecting to become 
religious and devout in some extraordinary way ; in 
a way for which the ordinary changes of character 
furnish no analogy. This is the fatal barrier of error 
that surrounds the world, and defends it from the 
pressure of ordinary motives. Evils and temptations 
enough, I know there are, within that barrier ; but if 
there be anything without it, if there be anything in 
the shape of opinion more fatal than everything else 
to religious attainment ; it must be that which inter- 
feres with the felt necessity of immediate, urgent, 
practical, persevering endeavour ! The doctrine of 
sudden conversion, I conceive, is precisely such an 
opinion. Let such a doctrine be applied to any other 
subject than religion, to the attainment of any mental 
habit, of learning or of art, and I am sure that it would 
be seen to have this fatal influence. And I fear that 
it has not only paralyzed religious exertion, but that 
it has the effect to deter many from all approach to 
religion ; that to many, this extraordinary conversion 
is a mystery, and a wonder, and a fear. I apprehend 
that by many it is regarded as a crisis, a paroxysm, a 
fearful initiation into the secrets of religion ; and that, 



174 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



in consequence, religion itself is regarded by multitudes, 
as the mysteries were in ancient times ; that is to say, 
as a matter of which they know nothing, and can 
know nothing, till they have passed the gate of initia- 
tion ; till they have learnt the meaning of this solemn 
pass-word, conversion. Hence it is that vital religion 
is looked upon by the mass of the community, as a 
matter with which they have nothing to do ; they give 
it up to the Church, to converts, to the initiated ; and 
that, which should press down upon the whole world, 
like the boundless atmosphere, the religion of the sky, 
the religion of the universe, the religion of universal 
truth and all-embracing welfare, has become a flaming 
sword upon the gates of paradise ! 

I proceed now to the exhibition or manifestation of 
religion. And the rule here is, that a man should 
manifest his religious affections no otherwise, than as 
he manifests any serious, joyful and earnest affections 
he may possess. This, I have no doubt, will appear 
to be the most interesting and effective, as well as the 
most proper display of them. 

Exhibition, manifestation, display on such a subject, 
are words, I confess, which are not agreeable to me; 
and on this point, I shall soon speak. That is seldom 
the most powerful exhibition of character, which a 
man makes on set purpose. And therefore I should 
say, even if it were contended that religion is a peculiar 
cause committed to the good man, which he is bound 
to advocate and advance in the world by peculiar 
exertions, still that he will not ordinarily so well 
succeed by direct attempt, as by an indirect influence. 

But let us take up, for a few moments, the general 
subject. We are speaking of religious manifestation ; 
and, I say, that a man's religion is to assume no pecu 
liar appearances, because it is religion. I do not say, 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



175 



no appearances appropriate to itself. All traits and 
forms of character have, to a certain extent, their 
appropriate disclosures. So far, religion may have 
them ; but. in consistency with good sense, no farther. 
Our Lord said to Peter, "When thou art converted, 
strengthen thy brethren." A good man should 
strengthen his brethren ; but, in order to do this to 
the best purpose, he is to strengthen his brethren in 
religion, no otherwise than he would strengthen his 
brethren in patriotism, in learning, or in any other 
cause. That is to say, he is to be governed by the 
general and just principles of mutual influence. He 
is to give his countenance, his sympathy, his counsel 
on proper occasions ; but he is not to go about exhorting 
at all corners, assuming an air of superiority, speaking 
in oracular and sepulchral tones ; if he does so, he will 
be liable to be considered intrusive, impertinent, and 
disagreeable. I would speak with a sacred caution 
on this point. I would quench no holy fire. Our fault 
is too liable to be reserve. And well can I conceive 
that there may be times, when a man may fitly and 
solemnly say, "stand fast, my brother, keep thine 
integrity;" or emergencies of social temptation, when 
the zealous Christian may say, "let us strengthen each 
other's hands, and encourage each other's hearts in the 
holy cause of duty." The same thing may be done in 
every other cause, whether of justice or humanity. 
All that I contend for is, that the same good sense, the 
same courtesy, the same liberality, shall govern a man 
in one case, as in the other. 

Undoubtedly, a religious and good man will appear 
on many occasions differently from another man, and 
differently, in proportion as he is religious and good. 
But he will not appear so always, nor in things indif- 
ferent. There may be nothing to distinguish him in 



176 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



his gait, his countenance or demeanour. Still there will 
be occasions, when his character will come out ; many 
occasions. His actions, his course of life, his senti- 
ments, on a great many occasions, will show his 
character. And these sentiments he will express in 
conversation ; so that his conversation will be thus far 
different. But still the disclosures of his character will 
all be natural. He will show you that he is interested 
in religion, just as he shows you that he is interested 
about every thing else, by natural expressions of 
countenance and tones of voice, by natural topics of 
conversation and habits of conduct. In short, there 
will be an appropriate exhibition of religious character 
but nothing singular or strange. 

Now, for multitudes of persons, this will not do ; it 
is not enough. They want something peculiar. 
There are many, indeed, who are not satisfied, unless 
there is something peculiar in the looks and manners 
of a man to mark him out as religious. Who does not 
know how constantly a clergyman has been, and still 
is, to a great extent, known, everywhere, by these 
marks? And what is more common, than for the new 
convert to put on a countenance and deportment, which 
causes all his acquaintance to say, "How strangely he 
appears!" And many, I repeat, would have it so. 
They would have a man not only belong to the 
kingdom of Christ, but carry also some peculiar marks 
and badges of it. They would have him wear his 
religion as a military costume, that they may know, as 
they say, under what colours he fights. But let us 
remember, that many a coward has worn a coat of 
mail, and many a brave man has felt that he did not 
need one. And many a bad man, I would rather say 
many a misguided man, has put on a solemn counte- 
nance, and carried a stiff and formal gait, and got all 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



177 



the vocabulary of cant by heart; and many a good 
man has felt that he could do without these trappings 
of a mistaken and erring piety. Nor let it be forgotten, 
that just in proportion as this peculiarity of religious 
manifestation prevails, hypocrisy prevails. It is easier 
to put on a costume, than it is to adopt a real character. 
Religion, for its own defence against pretenders, as well 
as for its usefulness in the world, should demand 
sobriety, simplicity, naturalness and truth of behaviour, 
from all its votaries. 

I do not mean, in saying this, to confound sancti- 
mony with hypocrisy, or bad taste with bad morals. 
The same distinctions apply to this, as to every other 
subject. A man of real learning may be a pedant. 
A man of real skill may lack the simplicity which is 
its highest ornament. A really able statesman may 
practise some finesse. A truly wise man may put on 
an air of unnecessary gravity, or be something too 
much a man of forms. But we all agree that these are 
faults. We always desire that all unnecessary pecu- 
liarities should be laid aside; that no man should 
obtrude upon others his gifts or qualifications ; that he 
should leave them to speak when they are called for. 
In other words, we demand good breeding in every 
other case ; and I say emphatically, that good breeding 
is equally to be demanded in religion. No man is the 
worse Christian for being a well-bred man ; nor is he, 
for that reason, the less decided Christian. 

Next to the general manners as modes of exhibiting 
religion, a more specific point to be considered is 
religious conversation. A man usually talks, it is 
said, about that which is nearest his heart; and a 
religious man, therefore, will talk about religion. 
Every observing person, we may notice in passing, 
must be aware that there are many exceptions to this 



178 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



remark; that there are not a few individuals in the 
circle of his acquaintance, who are not, by any means, 
communicative on the subjects that must deeply 
interest them. But there is a still more important 
distinction in regard to the subject-matter itself. 

It is this. A man may talk religiously, and yet not 
talk about religion, as an abstract subject. A good 
and devout man will show that he is such by his con- 
versation ; but not necessarily by his conversing upon 
the abstract subjects of devotion and goodness. He 
will show it by the spirit of his conversation, by the 
cast and tone of his sentiments, on a great many 
subjects. You will see, as he talks about men and 
things, about life and its objects, its cares, disappoint- 
ments, afflictions and blessings, about its end and its 
future prospects ; you will see that his mind is right, 
that his affections are pure, that his aspirations are 
spiritual. You will see this, not by any particular 
phraseology he uses, not because he has set himself to 
talk in any particular manner, not because he intended 
you should see it ; but simply because conversation is 
ordinarily and naturally an expression and index of 
the character. I am not denying that a good man 
may talk about religion as an abstract subject, or about 
religious experience as the express subject. All may do 
this, at times : some, from the habit of their minds, 
may do it often. But what I say is, that this, with 
most men, is not necessarily nor naturally the way of 
showing an interest in religion. 

And to prove this, we need only ask how men ex- 
press, by conversation, their interest in other subjects ; 
how they exhibit other parts of their character, through 
this medium ; this breathing out of the soul in words. 
A man talks affectionately or feelingly ; you see that 
this is the tone of his mind ; you say that he is a per- 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



179 



son of great sensibility ; but does he talk about 
affection, or feeling, or sensibility, in the abstract? A 
man talks intelligently ; but does he talks about intelli- 
gence ? Or is it necessary that he should discourse a 
great deal about good sense, or be perpetually saying 
what a fine thing knowledge is, in order to convince 
you that he is an intelligent man ? Here is a circle 
of persons, distinguished for the strength of their family 
and friendly attachments. All their actions and words 
show that kindness and harmony dwell among them. 
But now, what would you think, if they should often 
sit down and talk in set terms, about the beauty of 
friendship, or the charms of domestic love ? So strange 
and unnatural would it be, that you would be inclined 
to suspect their sincerity. You might, indeed, fairly 
infer one of two things ; either that love and friend- 
ship with thein were matters of mere and cold 
sentiment, or that these persons had utterly mistaken 
the natural and proper method of exhibiting their 
affections. 

But there is another kind of religious conversation, 
which, beyond all others, is thought to furnish the 
clearest evidence of a man's piety ; and that is, his 
conversing much with thoughtless or unregenerate 
persons, with a view to making them religious. Now 
here, we are to keep in view the same distinction, that 
is applied to religion in general. A religious man may 
well desire to make others religious by his conversa- 
tion. He may, on proper occasions, converse with 
them for this very end. But to do this, he need not 
talk about religion in the abstract, nor expressly about 
the religious good of the persons he converses with. 
There may, indeed, be times and relations, in which 
this personal appeal should be made ; but it should not 
be done as a matter of course and of set form. A man 



180 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



may impress his acquaintances in this way, I know. 
He may make them feel strangely and uncomfortably. 
He may create in them a sort of preternatural feeling-. 
He may awaken, terrify, distress them. He may, then, 
by such means, make an impression upon them ; but 
it will not be a good impression. It is planting in the 
mind the seeds of superstition, which a whole life, often, 
is not sufficient to eradicate. It is through this process 
that religion is, with so many persons, a strange, uncon- 
genial, terrifying, distressful, gloomy thing, to their 
dying day. Why is it not apparent to every one, that 
this method of proceeding is unnatural, unwise, inexpe- 
dient ? It is not with religion, that men are impressed 
in this case, so much as with the manner in which it 
is presented, with its aspects and adjuncts. And there 
is reason to fear that with many, religion itself becomes 
a thing of aspects and circumstances, rather than of 
the spirit ; that it becomes, in its possessor, a peculi- 
arity, rather than a character ; a posture and often a 
distorted posture of mind and feeling, rather than the 
mind and feeling itself. Men are not accustomed to 
talk about abstract subjects, nor about the soul, as an 
abstract subject. And if you approach them, awk- 
wardly, as you must do in such a case, and put such 
questions as, " whether they have obtained religion," 
or, " what is the state of their souls," they will hardly 
know what to do with such treatment ; they will not 
know how to commune with you. They may, indeed, 
if they have a great respect for you, sit down, and listen 
to the awful communication, and be impressed and 
overcome by it. But is this the way to exert a favour- 
able and useful influence upon them? Do but con- 
sider if this is the way in which men are favourably 
and usefully impressed on other subjects. A man 
has a quarrel with his neighbour. You wish to dis- 



RELIGIOUS AFFECTIONS. 



181 



pose him to peace and reconciliation. Do you begin 
with asking him what is the state of his soul? Do 
you ask him whether he has obtained peace ? Do you 
begin to talk with him about the abstract doctrines of 
peace and forgiveness ? Let a sensible man be seen 
communing with his neighbour in a case like this, and 
he will be found to adopt a far more easy, unembar- 
rassed and natural mode of communication. And. in 
any case, whether you propose to enlighten the ignor- 
ant, to quicken the indolent or to restrain the passion- 
ate, every one must know, that a course would be 
pursued, very different from that which is usually 
resorted to, for recommending religion. 

I have now spoken of the general manners, and of 
conversation in particular, as modes of exhibiting 
religion. 

But on the general subject of exhibiting religion, 
I have one observation to offer in close. I have spoken, 
in this discourse, of exhibiting or manifesting religion, 
because I could find no other brief and comprehensive 
phrase which would convey the idea; but I am afraid 
that these phrases themselves are liable to carry with 
them an erroneous idea. If a man of high intelligence 
or cultivated taste should think much of exhibiting his 
intelligence or taste, we should say that he is not very 
wisely employed. He might, indeed, very properly 
think of it, if he had fallen into any great faults on 
this point. But after all, exhibition is not the thing. 
And the observation, therefore, which I have to make, 
is this ; that the more a man thinks of cultivating 
religion, and the less he thinks of exhibiting it, the 
more happy will he be in himself, and the more useful 
to others. That which is within us, it has been said, 
"will out." Let a man possess the spirit of religion, 
and it will probably, in some way or other, manifest 
16 



182 



THE ANALOGY OP RELIGION. 



itself. He need not be anxious on that point. On the 
contrary, there are no persons who are more disagree- 
able ; there are scarcely any who do a greater 
disservice to the cause of virtue, than pattern men 
and women. Hence it is that you often hear it said, 
" We cannot endure perfect people." The assumption, 
the consciousness of virtue, is the most fatal blight 
upon all its charms. Good examples are good things ; 
but their goodness is gone the moment they are 
adopted for their own sake. A noble action performed 
for example's sake, is a contradiction in terms. Let it 
be performed in total unconsciousness of anything but 
the action itself, and then, and then only, is it clothed 
with power and beauty. 

I do not mean to dissuade any good man from 
acting and speaking for the religious enlightenment 
and edification of others; I advocate it; but that is 
effort, not exhibition. Yet even then, I would say, let 
no man's religious action or speech go beyond the 
impulses of his heart. Let no man be more religious 
in his conversation, than he is in his character. The 
worst speculative evils in the popular mind about 
religion, I fear, are the mingled sense of its unreality, 
on the one hand, and of its burthensomeness on the 
other, which spring from the artificial treatment it has 
received from its professed votaries. Away with set 
phrases, and common-places, and monotones, and 
drawlings, and all solemn dulness; and let us have 
truth, simplicity and power ! The heart of the world 
will answer to that call, even as the forests answer and 
bend to the free winds of heaven; while amidst the 
fogs and vapours that rise from stagnant waters, it 
stands motionless, chilled and desolate. 



IV. 



CAUSES OF INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION TO 
RELIGION. 

For the children of this world are in their generation wiser than 
the children of light. — Luke xvi. 8. 

I am to speak in this discourse of the causes of 
indifference and aversion to religion ; and my special 
purpose, in the analogy which I am following out in 
these discussions is, to inquire, whether the same 
causes would not make men indifferent or averse to 
any other subject, however naturally agreeable or 
interesting to them. Let philosophy, or friendship, or 
native sensibility; let study, or business, or pleasure 
even, be inculcated and treated as religion has been, 
and would not men. be averse to them? 

It is possible that I have a hearer who will think 
that he solves the problem by saying, that men's 
aversion to religion is owing to the wickedness of their 
hearts. That would be to solve a problem with a 
truism. The aversion to religion is wickedness of 
heart. I am sensible, and it will be more apparent as 
we proceed, that this is to be said with important 
qualifications. But still it is true that this state of 
mind is wrong. And the question is. why does this 
wrong state of mind exist? In other words, whence 
is this aversion to religion? It may be said, with more 
pertinence I allow, that the cause is to be found in the 
depravity of human nature. This is, indeed, assigning 
a cause. And it is, moreover, bringing the subject to 



184 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 

a point, on which I wish to fix your attention. For so 
far from admitting this to be true, I think it will be 
easy to show that men may be made, and are made, 
indifferent or averse to worldly objects, to objects 
allowed to be congenial to their nature, by the same 
causes which make them indifferent or averse to 
heavenly objects, the objects of faith and duty. 

I. The first cause which I shall mention is neglect. 
There are many sciences and arts and accomplish- 
ments, which are most interesting, and naturally most 
interesting to those who cultivate them, but entirely 
indifferent to those who neglect them. We see this 
every day. We find different men in the opposite 
poles of enthusiasm and apathy, on certain subjects \ 
and the reason is, that some have been familiar with 
them, and others have been completely estranged from 
them. The most interesting and fascinating reading 
has no attraction for those, who have passed the most 
of their lives without ever taking up a book. It is, in 
short, a well-known law of our minds, that attention is 
necessary to give vividness and interest to objects of 
human thought. 

The first cause of indifference to religion, then, is 
neglect. It may be said that all are taught ; that the 
subject is constantly urged upon their attention from 
the pulpit. But the example and daily conversation 
of their parents and friends, who have showed no in- 
terest in religion, have been more powerful far than 
the words of the preacher. The real and effective in- 
fluences of their education have all tended to neglect. 
The actual course of their conduct has come to the 
same thing. They have never attended to religion, 
either as the merchant attends to business, or as the 
farmer attends to soils, or the mechanician to his art, 
or, to come nearer to the point, as the student attends 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



185 



to philosophy, or as the virtuoso to matters of taste, or 
even as the sketching traveller attends to scenery, or 
as the man of pleasure to amusement ; or, in fine, as 
any man attends to anything in which he would be 
interested. It is not in this way, at all, that they have 
thought of being religious, but in some more summary, 
in some extraordinary way : and multitudes, who 
would think it preposterous to expect to be interested 
in a literature or language, of which they have never 
read anything, have never in their lives attentively 
read one book about religion, not even the Bible. 

I am quite sensible, while I make these compari- 
sons, that there is a general attention to religion more 
important than any specific study of it : an attention, 
that is to say, to the monitions of conscience, to experi- 
ence, to the intimations of a providence all around us, 
to the great example of Christ that ever shines as a 
light before us. But it is this very attention, as well 
as the specific study, in which men have been deficient. 
And then, as to the specific study, I say, it is to be ad- 
vocated on grounds similar to those which recommend 
it in every other case. A man may be religious with- 
out reading books, I know. So may he be an agricul- 
turalist or mechanician without reading books. But 
the point to be stated, for him who reads at all, is that 
he will read on the subject on which he wishes to be 
informed and interested ; and so we may say, that he, 
who studies at all, will study on the subject that is 
nearest his heart ; and that he, who adopts forms and 
usages in any case, will avail himself of forms and 
usages in this. So that he, into whose life no specific 
religious action enters, gives no evidence of general 
attention. 

Still, then, I repeat, there must be attention, both 
general and particular. No man can reasonably 
10* 



186 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 

expect to be religious without it. It is not enough pas- 
sively to be borne on with the wave of worldly fashion, 
now setting towards the church, and now towards the 
exchange, and now towards the theatre. It is not 
enough to be as religious as chance and time and tide 
will make us. There must be a distinct, direct reli- 
gious action, a hand stretched out, an eye looking 
beyond, a heart breathing its sighs and secret prayers 
for some better thing. But with multitudes this dis- 
tinct action of the soul has never been put forth. And 
it is no more surprising that they are not Christians, 
than it is that they are not astronomers or artists. 

II. The next cause of indifference and aversion to 
religion is to be found in the character, with which 
some of its most attractive virtues are commonly 
invested. Let us consider a few of these, and compare 
them with other affections and sentiments. 

One of the Christian virtues, much insisted on, is 
love of the brethren. The analogous sentiment is 
friendship. Now I ask, would friendship be the attrac- 
tive quality that it is, if it were inculcated and repre- 
sented in the same way as love of the brethren ? If 
friendship were constantly insisted on, as a test of 
character, as the trying point on which all future 
hopes rest ; if a man were constantly asked whether 
he loves his friends, in the same way in which he is 
asked whether he loves the brethren, and thus were 
made to tremble when that question is asked ; if, then, 
the affection of friendship were required to be exercised 
with so little reference to all the natural charms and 
winning graces of character ; if, again, friendship must 
find its objects within a sphere so limited, among men 
of a particular sect, or among church-members only, 
or among speculative believers of a certain cast ; and 
if, moreover, friendship were to express itself by such 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 187 



methods as brotherly love usually does, by set and 
precise manners, by peculiar actions, by talking of its 
elect and chosen ones, as Christians have been wont 
to talk of each other : if, I say, all this belonged to 
friendship, do you think it would wear to men's eyes 
the charm and fascination that it now does ? Would 
they rush to its arms ; would they seek it, and sigh for 
it, as they now do ? No ; friendship itself would lose 
its grace and beauty, if it were set forth as the love of 
the brethren usually is. No wonder that men are 
averse to such an affection. But would they have been 
equally averse to it, if it had been represented as but 
a holier friendship ; the friendship of good men ; which 
it is, and which is all that it is ? 

Again ; hope is a Christian virtue. It is also natural 
affection ; and as a natural affection, it attracts every 
human heart. It "springs eternal" and irresistible 
in every human breast. Its eye kindles, and its coun- 
tenance glows, as it gazes upon the bright future. But 
would it be this involuntary and welcome affection, if 
it bore the character that evangelical hope has assumed, 
in the experience of modern Christians ? I say of 
modern Christians ; for the ancient hope was a different 
thing. It was the hope of those " who sat in the region 
and shadow of death," that they should live hereafter: 
it was a hope full of immortality ; full of the sublimity 
and joy of that -great expectation. But now, what is 
the modern feeling that bears this name, and how 
does it express itself? It says with anxiety, and often 
with a mournful sigh, " I hope that I am a Christian ; 
I hope that I am pardoned ; I hope that I shall go to 
heaven." Would any human hope be attractive, if 
this were its character ? Is it strange that men do not 
desire to entertain a hope, that is so expressed ? 

Once more ; faith holds a prominent place among 



183 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



the Christian virtues. In its natural form, it is one 
of the most grateful of all affections. Confidence ; 
confidence in our friend ; what earthly repose is 
equal to this? The faith of a child in its parent; 
how simple, natural, irresistible ! And how perfectly 
intelligible is all this ! But now do you throw one 
shade of mystery over this affection ; require it to 
assent to abstruse and unintelligible doctrines ; require 
of it a metaphysical accuracy ; demand it, not as the 
natural, but as some technical or mystical condition 
of parental favour ; resolve all this into some peculiar 
and ill-understood connexion with the laws of the 
divine government ; and the friend, the child would 
shrink from it ; he would forego the natural affections 
of his heart, if they must be bound up with things so 
repulsive and chilling to all its confiding and joyous 
sensibilities. 

I may observe here, that these three virtues, 
brotherly love, hope, and faith, derive from the circum- 
stances of the early age a prominence and a peculiarity, 
which ought since to have passed away. When the 
Christians were a comparatively small and persecuted 
band, and had a great cause committed to their fidelity, 
it was natural and proper that the tie between them 
should be peculiar. Hence their letters to one another 
were constantly filled with such expressions as, " Sa- 
lute the brethren," "Greet the brethren." Those 
brethren were perhaps one hundred or five hundred 
persons in a city ; known and marked adherents of 
the new faith ; who met together in dark retreats, in 
old ruins, in caves or catacombs. But all this has 
passed away. And now it would be absurd for a man, 
however affectionately and religiously disposed, in 
writing letters to any town or city, to send salutations 
and greetings to all the good people in those places. 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



189 



Christians now stand in the general relation to one 
another of good men ; not of fellow-sufferers, not of 
fellow-champions of a persecuted cause. It is precisely 
the difference between compatriots fighting for their 
liberty, and fellow-citizens quietly enjoying it. 

In like manner, Christian faith, when it was neces- 
sarily the first step in religion, when it came to fill the 
void of skepticism ; and Christian hope, when it sprung 
from the dark cloud of despair, both derived from the 
circumstances a singular character and a signal im- 
portance. And the circumstances justified a peculiar 
manner of speaking about them. Hope was indeed a 
glorious badge of distinction in a world without hope : 
and faith was, indeed, a pledge for the highest virtue, 
when it might cost its possessor his life. But now to 
speak of faith and hope with a certain mysterious 
sense of their importance, is to present them in a false 
garb ; it is to clothe, with an ancient and strange cos- 
tume, things that ought to be familiar ; and it is 
therefore to cut them off from our natural sympathy 
and attachment. 

III. The third cause of indifference and aversion to 
religion, and the last which I shall mention, but on 
which I shall dwell at greater length than I have 
upon the former, is to be found in the mode of its 
inculcation. 

To show that men may be made averse to objects 
naturally and confessedly interesting to them, by an 
unfortunate teaching, and to point out the manner of 
that teaching, I shall draw two illustrations from the 
pursuit of knowledge. 

It will not be denied, that for knowledge in general 
the human mind has a natural aptitude and desire. 
But do the children, in the most of our schools, love the 
knowledge that is inculcated there ? Have they as- 



190 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



sociated agreeable ideas with their class-books and 
school-rooms, and with the time they pass in them? 
What is the occasion of this insufferable tediousness 
that so many of them experience, in the pursuits of 
elementary learning? How is it, that they so often 
find the form, on which they sit, an almost literal 
rack of torture ; and the hours of confinement length- 
ening out like the hours of bondage ? Do we talk of 
men's aversion to religion ? Why, here is aversion to 
knowledge, as strong and obstinate, as that of hardened 
vice itself to relisrion. What causes it? Not that 
nature, which was as truly made to love knowledge, 
as appetite to love food ; but circumstances have 
disappointed the natural want, till it is perverted and 
stupified, so that it scarcely appears to belong to the 
nature of the human being. 

Again ; the science of astronomy is held, by all who 
understand it, to be a most interesting, an almost 
enchanting science. No one can doubt that, if properly 
introduced to the mind, it would prove extremely 
attractive and delightful. Nor let it be said, to destroy 
the parallel which I am exhibiting, that knowledge 
has no natural obstacles in the mind to contend with, 
while religion has many. Religion finds obstructions, 
indeed, in human nature; but so also has knowledge 
to contend with the love of ease, with sloth, with 
physical dulness, with pleasure and worldly vanity. 

Now suppose that the teacher of astronomy comes 
forward to instruct his pupil; and that he at once 
adopts a very unusual, very formal and repulsive 
manner ; that he tells him with reiterated assurance 
that he must learn this science, and yet fails to show 
any very perceptible connexion it has with his interest, 
his dignity or happiness. Suppose further, that the 
teacher informs his pupil, that he has the strongest 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



191 



natural aversion to the science in question : that this 
aversion is so strong as to amount to an actual inability 
to comprehend it; that it is absolutely certain that he 
never will learn it of himself ; that his only chance of 
success lies in the interposition of divine power; that 
all his exertions to learn give him no claim to under- 
stand what he is inquiring after ; that if he succeeds, 
it will be no merit of his, and that if he fails he will be 
utterly ruined, and for ever miserable, and will richly 
deserve to be so. Suppose, I say, all these influences 
to attach themselves to one of the most beautiful 
science ever commended to the human mind ; suppose 
all the strange instructions, the fearful agitations, the 
tremendous excitements of hope and fear, the unnatural 
postures of mind, the violence to reason, the mocking 
of effort, the mysteries of faith and the extravagances 
of conduct, that must arise from so extraordinary an 
intellectual condition of things; and do you believe 
that any object or pursuit would be likely to be loved 
in such circumstances? Would you say, in such a 
case, that the science in question had any fair chance 
or trial? 

But let us now come to the direct teaching of religion 
itself. What are the causes that prevent its grateful 
and hearty acceptance? What are the causes, I 
mean, which exist in the teaching itself; for I am not, 
at present, concerned with those which exist in the 
perverseness of the human will. To this question, I 
shall answer, that the teaching is apt to be too formal, 
too direct, and too abstract. 

First, it is apt to be too formal. The parent, the 
teacher, the friend, does not neglect the subject, 
perhaps, nor does he misconceive it; his views are 
rational and just; he sees what religion is, and would 
teach it ; but how does he teach it ? Himself, perhaps, 



192 THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



possessing but little of holy familiarity with its objects, 
he speaks to his child or his pupil, with a constrained 
manner, speaks, as if he were set to do it, and as if it 
were a task. He feels the duty of imbuing with 
religious sentiment the mind that is committed to him ; 
but the gentle and holy voice is not in his own heart, 
and without intending it, he adopts an artificial tone. 
He speaks on this subject as he speaks on no other. 
His words want all the winning grace and charm of 
natural sensibility. In short, he is a formalist in 
religion, and a formalist in teaching it. Formal as all 
other kinds of education have been, none has been so 
dreadfully smitten with this taint, as catechising, and 
the inculcation of Bible lessons, and the teaching of 
prayers, and talking of God. 

Now, everything unnatural in manner is repulsive 
to us. It is scarce speaking too strongly, to say, that 
we hate it. We fly from it when we are children ; we 
revolt from it when we are men. There is nothing in 
social manners that is more intolerable than affectation. 
But especially, I think, is it the instinct of children to 
shrink from everything formal in manner. Their 
minds put forth every power of resistance to it, as 
their limbs would resist the compression of some 
torturing instrument. Might religion but have come 
forth from all its artificial peculiarities and forms of 
singularity and fetters of restraint; might it have 
talked with as as other things talk with us ; might it 
only have won us, as kindness, friendship, love win us ; 
how different would now have been the state of religious 
sentiment and affection, in the hearts of thousands 
around us ! 

I am speaking of direct influences; and I now add, 
that they may be too direct for the best impression. 
Perhaps, indeed, it is one of the inevitable errors of 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



193 



the formalist, to make them so. He, who is not heartily 
and wholly interested in religion, will be very apt to 
make the inculcation of it a set business ; and then it 
certainly will be too direct. It will take the form of 
direct command, and say, "You must do this or that; 
you must love God ;" rather than express itself in easy 
and unrestrained and unpremeditated conversation. I 
am inclined, indeed, to say that, in general, the 
strongest feelings choose indirect modes of manifesta- 
tion. I remember once to have heard of a prayer on 
a very affecting occasion, and where the speaker was 
most of all interested, in which it was said, that every 
word bore reference to the occasion, and, yet the occa- 
sion was never once directly alluded to. I confess that 
that appeared to me, as the very highest description 
that could be given, of delicate and strong sensibility. 
It is not necessary to be direct in order to be impressive ; 
the very contrary is more apt to be true. And he who 
can think of no way to impress religion, but broad, 
open-mouthed and urgent exhortation or entreaty, 
understands neither religion nor human nature. 

The common fault of parents certainly is, to do too 
little ; but there are ways in which they may do too 
much. It has been justly said that nothing can be 
worse, than to be always pointing out the moral of a 
story to children. They do it for themselves ; and for 
another to do it for them, after they have done it, is 
often felt by them to be degrading and irritating. I 
think that some of the worst children and young- 
people, that I have ever kown, are those, into whose 
ears moralities and fine sentiments have been for 
ever dinned with wearisome repetition and minute- 
ness. This accounts for the false maxim which you 
sometimes hear, that the best parents often have the 
worst children. Such parents, I know, are often what 
17 



194 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



are called very good people, very exemplary persons ; 
extremely anxious, they are said to be, for the improve- 
ment of their children ; and so they are in a sense ; 
and yet I have been sometimes tempted to say, that 
heartless, formal, wearisome domestic lectures on 
religion and virtue, do more hurt than any people in 
the world. The worst and most abandoned of men 
make vice odious ; they make virtue so. And the 
feelings of the children, bad and insensible as they are 
apt to become, do really evince, though unhappily, the 
dignity of human nature ; they show that virtue was 
not designed to be poured into the ear in dinning 
precepts or dull complaints, but to be the offspring of 
an inward energy, self-wrought, self-chosen ; influenced, 
indeed, by arguments from without, but drawing its 
own inference, bringing out, from communion with 
itself and with the spirit of God, its own free and 
glorious result. 

I shall not be thought, certainly, in these remarks, 
to oppose the religious education of children. I am 
speaking of the form of teaching, and not of the fact. 
The only question is about the best mode ; and into 
this, I maintain, that less of direct inculcation and 
more of indirect influence, should enter, than is com- 
mon. Nay, I maintain that the stern and solemn 
enforcement of lessons and readings has effectually 
alienated many from religion. It was the manner, I 
repeat, rather than the act. The Bible may certainly 
be taught, and catechisms may be taught in the form 
of direct lessons ; they may be successfully taught, if 
the mariner be easy and kindly ; and, I think, that 
Sunday schools, where a large company of children 
are brought together, and the free and joyous spirit 
of childhood pervades the place, are likely to give 
freedom and ease to the manner of teaching. Religi- 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



195 



ous teaching is thus becoming like common-school 
teaching, and on this account, is doubtless exposed to 
some dangers ; but it is likely to have the advantage 
of throwing off the usual manner of direct, peculiar, 
superstitious appeal to the heart, singling out its 
object, and fixing upon it the eye of authority and 
warning. So important and critical is this point of 
manner, that a visible and painful anxiety to have a 
child excel in anything, even in virtue, does not appear 
to me to be wise ; to urge even this, by constant hints 
and exhortations, and especially with an air of dissatis- 
faction and complaint, is not expedient. The human 
affections are not to be won in this way. They are 
not so won to other objects ; why should we expect 
them by such means to be attracted to religion ? 

Finally, as we teach religion too formally, and often 
too directly, so do I think that we teach it too abstractly. 
There is one particular affection on which I shall bring 
this observation to bear, and that is the love we should 
cherish towards our Creator. To this sentiment, I 
allow that there are some natural obstacles. They 
are found in the invisibility and infinity of the divine 
nature. These obstacles, I think, however, are 
exaggerated; and they are, by no means, so great 
as those which are created by our own mistakes. 

When children are acquiring their first ideas of God 
and of their duty to him, I apprehend that many things 
are taught and told them, which, although true and 
right in themselves, are inculcated too abstractly ; that 
is, too little with reference to the minds that are to 
receive them. The parent teaches his child, as the 
first thing, perhaps, that God sees him continually, in 
the darkness and in the light ; and the thought of that 
awful eye fixed upon him, distresses and frightens him. 
Or the child is taught with too little explanation, that 



196 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



God is displeased, is angry with him, when he does 
wrong; and how little does he understand the con- 
siderate and compassionate displeasure of his Creator ! 
Or he is taught to pray, and obliged to go through 
with that formal action, without its being made a 
sufficiently sincere, grateful and real homage. And 
he is especially taught all this on Sunday. Sunday, 
he is told, is the Lord's day. And it is made to him, 
perhaps, the most disagreeable day in the week. 
Alas! how far does the experience of those tedious 
hours, penetrate into his life, and into the whole 
religious complexion of his being ! How often is that 
hurtful influence reasoned away, and how often does 
it come back again, and disturb, perhaps, the most 
rational Christian, even on his dying bed ! 

The first idea, it should be remembered, which a 
child can gain at all, of moral qualities, is from the 
experience of his own heart. That is the undoubted, 
and now conceded philosophical truth. There, then, 
should begin the child's idea of God. From the love 
within him, he should be taught that God loves all 
beings. And so, from the moral approbation or 
displeasure he feels in himself, he should be taught 
how God approves the good and condemns the bad. 
Next, his parent should be to him the image of God; 
and from his love of that parent, and from all that 
parent has done for him, he should be led to consider 
how easy, and how reasonable it is, that he should 
love God. God should be made a present being to 
him, near and kind, and not the image of a being, a 
monarch, or a master, seated on a throne, in the far 
distant heavens. 

The common method of teaching, I fear, instead of 
this, is extremely artificial, technical and constrained, 
and very little adapted to make any clear or agreeable 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 



197 



impression. And 1 am persuaded, that the same 
method adopted in regard to an earthly parent, would 
powerfully tend to repress the filial sentiment towards 
him. 

Let me dwell upon the comparison a moment, and 
with a view to illustrate the three faults of inculcation 
on which I have now been insisting. In order to make 
the cases, as far as may be, parallel, we must suppose 
the parent to be absent from his child, abseut, let it be 
imagined, in a foreign country, and his child has never 
seen him. And now my supposition proceeds. 

The child is told of his parent. But how told? I 
will suppose it to be, with a manner always strange 
and constrained, with a countenance mysterious and 
forbidding, with a tone unusual and awful. Instead 
of being taught to lisp amidst his innocent prattlings, 
the name of father, to speak of that name as if there 
were a charm about it, to associate with the idea of 
that father, all brightness, benignity and love ; instead 
of all this ease, simplicity and tenderness, he is called 
away from his sports and pleasures, is made to stand 
erect and attentive, and then he is told of this father. 
He is told, indeed, that his father is good and loves 
him ; but the words fall lightly on his ear ; they make 
little or no impression on his mind; while the manner, 
the countenance, the tone, sink into his heart, and tell 
him far more effectually, that there is something 
strange and stern about this father, and that he cannot 
love such a being. Yet this is the very thing on which 
the main stress is laid. He is told that he must love 
his parent. He is constantly urged and commanded 
to love him. He is warned continually that his father 
will be very much displeased, if he does not love him. 
He is admonished that all the good things he enjoys 
were sent to him by his father; and he is exhorted to 
17* 



198 



THE ANALOGY OF RELIGION. 



be grateful. Besides, he is shown a book, a fearful 
book, of laws, which this parent has written for him 
to obey. And to complete this system of influences, 
he has it continually held up before him, that, ere long, 
his father will send for him, and if he should find a 
defect of duty, gratitude and love, he will cast him into 
a dismal prison, where he will be doomed to pass his 
whole remaining life in misery and despair ! 

I need not point out the moral of this comparison. 
Alas ! how many extraneous causes have there been 
to sever the heart from its great native trust ; the trust 
in an Infinite Parent ! I say not this, to reproach any 
man, or any body of men. In this matter, I fear that 
we have all gone out of the way. I lament the defects 
of every kind of religious education and influence with 
which I am acquainted, and am persuaded that they 
have done much to spread around us the prevailing 
indifference and aversion to the most vital and vast of 
all concerns. I do not reproach my religious brethren 
then, who, with myself, I ought to believe, have meant 
well and erred in honesty, and whose attention I would 
invite, as I have given my own, to a serious considera- 
tion of this subject. 

But I cannot leave the subject, without addressing 
one emphatic remonstrance to those with whom 
religion is a matter of indifference or dislike. I entreat 
such to distrust the influences under which they have 
come to that result. I am sure that I have said enough 
to show them, that any subject would have failed to 
interest them under the same influences ; the influences 
of neglect, of misconception, and of mistaken treat- 
ment. It is not the bright and glorious truth of 
heaven that is in fault. It is not your own nature that 
is in fault. It is not the beneficence of God that has 
been wanting to you. But human error has been 



INDIFFERENCE AND AVERSION. 199 

Sowing in all the streams of life around you; and an 
erring heart within, has too easily suffered petrifaction 
and death to steal into all its recesses. Oh ! let a new 
life be breathed there; and you shall find that religion 
is no form, no irksome restraint, no dull compliance 
with duty merely, but spirit, but freedom, but life 
indeed; life to your heart; the beginning of a higher 
life, of the life everlasting! 



ON THE 

ORIGINAL USE OF THE EPISTLES 

OF THE NEW TESTAMENT, 

COMPARED WITH THEIR USE AND APPLICATION AT THE PRESENT DAT 



I. 

To the weak became I as weak, that 1 might gain the weak ; 1 
am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save 
some. — Cor. ix. 22. 

That is to say, Paul adapted his religions instruc- 
tions to the men whom he addressed, to their particular 
character, circumstances, difficulties, trials and specu- 
lations. " Unto the Jews, he says, I became as a Jew, 
that I might gain the Jews ; to them that are under 
the law, as under the law, that I might gain them 
that are under the law ; to them that are without 
law, as without law, that I might gain them that are 
without law." From this statement, we derive the 
following principle of interpretation, viz., that Paul, 
and it may be added, that all the sacred writers, did 
not deliver their instructions in an abstract and general 
form adapted alike and equally to all times, but 
that they had a local and special reference to the times 
in which they wrote. It was in conformity with this 
principle, that the Apostle said to the Athenians, " The 
times of this ignorance God winked at, but now com- 
mandeth all men every where to repent and to the 
Corinthians, he gave advice adapted to a particular 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



201 



occasion, saying, "I suppose that this is good for the 
present distress" — that is the instruction which I give 
you is suited to the present exigency. 

As I propose to apply this principle of interpretation 
to some subjects in the Epistles of the New Testament, 
I wish to place it distinctly before you, and in the outset, 
to guard it from misapprehension. It may at once be 
asked, if the Scriptures were not written for all men. 
Let us then explain, and it will be seen, I think, that 
the Bible could not to any valuable purpose, have been 
written for all men, if it had not been written for 
some men in particular. 

The Scriptures not only bear marks of belonging to 
the periods and persons that produced them, but they 
bear marks of perpetual adaptation to the state, the 
opinions, the prejudices, in one word, to the moral 
wants of the men to whom they were immediately 
addressed. When God commissioned prophets and 
apostles to be the instructers of the world, he did not 
bereave them at once, of their reason, their common 
sense, their observation. He rather taught them more 
clearly to perceive, and more keenly to feel the situa- 
tion, the difficulties, the fears and hopes, the sorrows, the 
dangers of those to whom they directed their message. 
He filled their hearts with peculiar solicitude and 
sympathy for the very persons to whom they were 
sent. How, then, could they fail to address themselves 
to the particular state and case of these persons ! In- 
deed, all true feeling, all tender sympathy, all fervent 
religion is from its very nature specific and circum- 
stantial. It does not waste itself in barren generalities. 
It has some specific objects, over which it meditates 
and is anxious ; over which it ponders, and hopes and 
prays. 

There is a very striking character of this kind in our 



202 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



Scriptures, and one that distinguishes them, as far as I 
have observed from all other systems of philosophy and 
religion. The instructions of the Bible are local, 
circumstantial, specific. We have not in them a few 
cold and general precepts, some wise sayings, some 
sententious paragraphs, some mottos of moral specula- 
tion. We hear not in them the staid and haughty 
philosopher who can scarcely condescend to lay down 
the law to his ignorant fellow-mortals. We hear not 
the grave impostor, who would make up for his heart- 
ies sn ess and hypocrisy by an air of wisdom and 
pretension. The Christian teachers did not pause in 
stately halls or retired groves to deliver their messages, 
but they went down into the crowd of men, into the 
places of domestic abode ; they penetrated into the 
recesses of human feeling ; they communed with 
human frailty and human sorrow and joy : they had 
something for every mind. They entered into the 
circumstances of men, into their daily wants and trials. 
It is this that has communicated such a spirit and 
charm to their writings. They would never have 
found the deep springs of human thought and emotion 
(let the truism be pardoned) if they had not searched 
for them where they actually were. And they could 
not have searched for them, but by removing the 
rubbish of systems and speculations, of errors and pre- 
judices which was thrown over them : that is to say, 
but by applying themselves to the circumstances and 
feelings of the time. 

What we say is, that the inspired teachers wrote for 
men; for men of the very period and nation, of the 
very customs and character, in the midst of which they 
lived. They wrote for all men, indeed, but they could 
not, I repeat, have done this, if they had not written for 
some men in particular. And to understand their writ- 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



203 



ings, we must consider that they took their form and 
colouring from the state of things which required them. 

We must add that all this is especially applicable to 
the Epistles of the New Testament. These, indeed, 
were particularly called forth by the exigencies, the 
difficulties, the trials, of the primitive churches. 
Indeed if men had received the simple doctrine of 
Jesus without objection or difficulty, if no contentions 
and controversies had sprung up, if no mistakes nor 
offences had arisen, these Epistles would never have 
been written. Some instructions the Apostles might 
have given, and given in the epistolary form, but their 
epistles would not have borne the same controversial 
aspect, and there would not have arisen from them in 
subsequent ages, the same disputes about conversion 
and election, the atonement and the Trinity. There 
would not in short have been the same difficulties 
in the interpretation of these Epistles. They took 
their form from circumstances : and with these 
circumstances we have, and can have, but a partial 
acquaintance. But that they did impart an influence, 
that the Epistles were written for the age, there can be 
no doubt. You see the marks of adaptation in every 
sentence. There are many things in them that apply 
exclusively to the early Christians, that can apply to 
no others. Such, for instance, are the answers to 
questions, the solution of difficulties, the settlement of 
disputes, which have long since passed away. Such, 
too, is what relates to the use of prophetical and 
miraculous powers, to meats offered to idols, &c. 
These things do not now concern us ; because we have 
no miraculous powers, and there are no idols to solicit 
our offerings. Will any man say, there is an idol in 
our hearts? Now, this is the very sort of liberty with 
the Scriptures, to which I feel compelled to object; 



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this spiritualizing, this work of fanciful analogies, this 
attempt to make the Bible mean all that it can mean, 
under the notion of doing honour to it. It is both 
unjustifiable and injurious. The Bible addresses us 
as reasonable men ; let us read it as reasonable men. 

I should not have dwelt so long on the very obvious 
principle that has now been discussed, were it not a 
principle that is scarcely yet admitted into the 
prevailing theological speculations of our times, and a 
principle too whose importance is quite equal to the 
neglect into which it has fallen. 

Indeed, it cannot fail to have been observed, that the 
habit of applying the language of the Epistles, 
without any qualification, to the subjects of Christian 
experience and of Christian speculation in later times, 
has been one of the most fruitful sources of error in 
eveiy form ; that it has above all other means, fostered 
the confidence of sectarians ; that it has gratified the 
pride of the weak, and the fancy of the extravagant ; 
and that by this means, bold and ignorant men 
especially ; the unlearned and unstable, have wrested 
the Scriptures to their injury. Such men have always 
been found turning away from the simple instructions 
of Jesus, to the high mysteries of Paul, and the former 
have often passed for little better than flat morality, 
while the latter, circumstantial, local, involved in the 
shadows of an ancient age, and even then, "difficult, 
and hard to be understood," have been exclusively 
studied as containing the high system of doctrine and 
essence of all spiritual religion. 

There is, indeed, what must have struck eveiy 
attentive mind, a very remarkable difference between 
the instructions of our Saviour and his Apostles ; but 
it was a difference chiefly owing to circumstances. It 
was a difference not in the substance, but in the form, 



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205 



in the topics of religious instruction. Our Saviour's 
teaching was evidently more simple, and more entirely 
practical. It dealt more in easy and intelligible expo- 
sitions and illustrations of truth and duty, of piety and 
acceptance with God. Our Saviour was announcing 
a system which had not yet encountered objection. It 
could not meet with objection till it was announced. 
But the Apostles had to contend with a world of 
objectors of every description. Hence their instructions 
became more speculative, more complicated, more 
intermixed with the institutions and ideas and preju- 
dices of the age; and in just that proportion, they 
became more argumentative and obscure. I say, that 
the Epistles contain nothing in the substance of 
religious instruction that is new. But whether they 
do or not; whether the novel aspect which they bear, 
is in any measure, given by new information; it is 
very certain that much of it is the colouring of circum- 
stances. And it is from a neglect to consider these 
circumstances; it is from neglect to observe the local 
application of these ancient writings, that such a 
strange and mischievous use has been made of them ; 
that bad and erroneous notions of religion still prevail 
among many; and that with all, a veil of obscurity 
still remains in the reading of them. 

But there is a danger on the other hand. There is 
danger of forgetting in the local application of these 
writings, that they have any other; of supposing that 
they had not only a special, but an exclusive reference 
to ancient times; and danger, therefore, of suffering 
them to fall into neglect, and of leaving out of sight 
that practical import, which belongs to all periods. In 
opposition to this impression that the Epistles had an 
exclusive reference to their own age, it is sufficient to 
observe, that it is incompatible, in the first place, with 
18 



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USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



the very nature of moral writings, and in the second 
place, with the prophetic views of the Apostles, who 
evidently considered themselves as dispensing truths 
which would be interesting to all times. 

It becomes very important therefore, to consider 
what in the Epistles was peculiar to the times in 
which they were written, and what belongs to us ; that 
we may be guarded from obscure and erroneous views 
of them on the one hand, and from a negligent and 
indifferent regard to them on the other. Some attempt 
is therefore proposed to make this distinction between 
the special and general application of certain terms 
and subjects, in the Epistles ; to point out the peculiar 
propriety and particular use of them, as adapted to the 
circumstances of the early Christians, and to show 
what is left in them for our instruction and comfort in 
these later times. 

I. The first subject which I shall mention, is the 
institution of the Lord's Supper. Nothing can be more 
simple, cheerful and inviting than this institution was, 
as it originally came from the hands of its Founder ; 
as it was first celebrated, with easy though serious 
conversation, and in the common manner of a Jewish 
supper, by our Lord and his Disciples. 

Now there is a passage on this subject in an Epistlo 
to the Corinthians, containing a strain of tremendous 
denunciation which has spread terror through every 
succeeding age of the church. Many sincere and 
serious persons even at this day, tremble and hesitate 
and actually refuse to obey a plain command of the 
Scriptures, lest they should incur the weight of that 
fearful curse, and should "eat and drink damnation to 
themselves." It has actually been supposed by multi- 
tudes that they were liable to set the seal to their 
everlasting perdition, by a serious and conscientious 



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207 



endeavour to obey the command of God. What deplo- 
rable views of God, these imaginations must have 
nurtured, and how much they must have interfered 
with the comfort and improvement of Christians, need 
not be said. It is more to our purpose, to remark, that 
the difficulty has arisen entirely from neglecting to 
consider the circumstances. It is true indeed, that 
there has been a great misunderstanding of the terms 
of this denunciation ; but there has been a still greater 
inattention to the particular and local application of it. 
It was aimed against a riotous, licentious and profane 
use of the Lord's Supper, in which the Corinthians had 
been guilty of excess and even of intemperance. It 
belongs therefore, to the Corinthian church, and to no 
other, until indeed another shall be found which is 
guilty of the same sacrilege. 

Still there is something in this passage for our 
instruction and admonition. We learn from it, in 
opposition to what has been commonly supposed, that 
there is no mysterious and fatal curse, awaiting the 
abuse of this ordinance in particular; for Paul does 
not treat the Corinthians as persons who had sealed 
their own destruction ; he does not even so much as 
cut them off from the communion of the churches, but 
still calls them Brethren, sanctified in Christ Jesus, 
and called to be saints, and affectionately exhorts 
them to reform this evil practice. We are admonished, 
on the other hand, that this feast is not to be regarded 
as common but as sacred; that the ordinance is 
solemn, and is to be approached with reverence; and 
that to violate this as to violate any ordinance of 
divine worship, involves heinous guilt. At the same 
time, I think, we may gather from this passage, that 
the ordinance of the Supper was not looked upon, in 
early times, with that peculiar awe and dread, which 



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prevails in many minds at this day ; for it is incredible 
that with these views, the Corinthians bad as they 
were, could ever have fallen into such gross indecorum. 

II. The next subject which I shall notice, though 
very slightly, and chiefly for the sake of illustration, 
is that of intermarriages between Christians and 
unbelievers. Such connexions, as you know, were 
prohibited. Now it only needs to be considered who 
these unbelievers were, to convince us that such 
prohibition was extremely reasonable for that time, 
and also quite peculiar to it. An unbeliever was a 
Pagan; one of a different and hostile religion; a 
connexion with whom was likely to prove extremely 
inconvenient, if not hazardous. Hence the Apostle 
says, "Be ye not unequally yoked with unbelievers." 
It would be about as absurd to apply this prohibition 
literally to our circumstances, as the prohibition under 
which the ancient Jews were laid, forbidding them to 
intermarry with the Canaanites. There are no unbe- 
lievers among us, in the particular sense in which the 
Apostle used this term. We are far from saying that 
there is no difference between the good and the bad; 
or that connexions between such are inexpedient. 
Bat to hold the Apostolic prohibition to apply strictly 
to our times; and then to assume the prerogative to 
decide infallibly who is a Christian; and to make this 
abstract inquiry, a previous question in the matter ; to 
undertake this, is incompatible, to say the least, with 
our knowledge and our circumstances. And yet this 
is maintained to be right and necessary, by great 
numbers of Christians of the present age. There may 
be indeed, a moral maxim gathered from the Apostle's 
instruction on this subject, which is indeed the maxim 
of common sense, with regard to the importance of 
a similarity of habits, tastes, &c. And in this limited 



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209 



application, it may be asked, " What fellowship hath 
righteousness with unrighteousness? and what coin- 
munion hath light with darkness?" 

These two instances may serve to illustrate our 
general principle. And we pass from them to subjects 
of Christian doctrine and experience. 

III.. I proceed therefore to remark thirdly, that the 
terms faith and justification had a propriety and a 
use which has passed away with the age in which 
they were first adopted. I take these terms together 
because they are intimately connected. Men were 
perpetually said to be justified by faith, and this was 
much insisted on. Before this we hear of justification 
by humility, as in the case of the publican whose 
prayer is recorded ; of forgiveness which is the same 
as justification, through the means of forgiving others ; 
of acceptance with God through the means of piety 
as the condition on our part: but the moment we pass 
into the Epistles, we find that all this comes by faith. 
Now, the truth is, that the condition is really not 
varied. It is essentially the same in both cases. It 
is that piety or goodness, without which it is impossible 
to possess, or if possessed, to enjoy the divine favour 
and approbation. And this condition is constantly 
represented in the Epistles to be faith ; for these 
reasons — because a new religion was proposed, whose 
first demand would of course be for faith in it; and 
because such faith when embraced and avowed in that 
age of prejudice and persecution, was an unques- 
tionable proof of sincere and pious conviction, and 
hence naturally came to pass for piety itself. 

Much too is said of justification through the free 
grace of God, because the Apostles had to encounter 
the pride of philosophers and the self-sufficiency of 
formalists in religion ; because they found every where 
18* 



210 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



prevailing, the notion that rites and sacrifices were 
entitled to procure the favour of God. Justification 
therefore, not by sacrifices or by works as properly 
meritorious, but by grace, by the mercy of God j and 
justification not by ceremonial observances, but by a 
living faith and obedience ; these were views of religious 
truth that needed to be particularly urged. 

Now it is rather awkward, or at least, it is unfor- 
tunate, that these terms should occupy the same place 
in our theology and moral instruction as they did in 
those of the apostles ; because the particular occasion 
and propriety of them has passed away. We are a 
nation of believers : I do not say of true Christians, 
but of believers in the popular sense of that term. 
There can be no such propriety in urging faith upon 
us, as upon an assembly of Pagans, and it cannot be 
urged at all without many explanations ; and after all, 
being liable to be misunderstood. What needs to be 
pressed upon us now as a prominent point, is a different 
form of piety. It is not so much faith, as obedience. 
And as to gratuitous justification, as to free grace, the 
danger seems now to be, not of trusting to the mercy 
of God too little but too much ; and of making not too 
much of our own works, but of making far too little. 

The attempt to apply the apostolic views of faith 
and justification in all their extent and frequency to 
our experience, has been unfortunate also, because 
it has led to unnatural, mystical ideas of religion, and 
among other ideas, it has led men to conjure up the 
preposterous notion that the great obstacle to salvation 
in the human heart, is not its bad passions, but some 
strange unwillingness to be saved by the mercy of 
God ; and that faith, being so exclusively and all- 
important, had some mysterious power of appropriating 
and securing the favour of God to itself. Indeed faith 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



211 



has been often thought to be nothing else but a willing- 
ness to be saved. 

On the other hand it is never to be forgotten, that 
we are saved by grace ; and if there is yet among 
us any lingering thought of deserving heaven by our 
good deeds, we need to be reminded of the earnestness, 
with which the apostles taught, that we are saved by 
grace ; by the free grace, the benignity, the forgiving 
compassion of our Maker. And if any of us are 
thinking that our claim to the divine favour though not 
perfect, is yet quite promising ; that we have done so 
little evil and have led a life so moral and unimpeach- 
able, that it would be unjust in God to punish us for 
our sin, we may rest assured that we know little of 
ourselves and less still, of that humility, contrition and 
deep sense of unworthiness that belong to the real 
Christian. 

IV. The remarks which have been made, might be 
applied to several topics in the Epistles, but we are 
limited for the present to one further : I mean the 
subject of religious experience. Religious experience 
in the early age, was itself strongly coloured by circum- 
stances and the description of it still more. 

It is to be considered in the first place, that the 
circumstances of that age gave to religion a character 
of powerful excitement. We are to remember that 
it was the age of miracles, of signs and wonders ; that 
it was the era of a new and wonderful revelation ; that 
it was the epoch of a new religious dominion ; and that 
men's minds were strongly excited by what was novel, 
marvellous and prospective around them. We are to 
remember that the new religion, aroused them from a 
guilty and degraded idolatry and naturally filled them 
with amazement and alarm. 

Again, it is to be considered that the circumstances 



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USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



of that age made religion, if I may speak so, a more 
notable thing ; a thing more easily marked by dates, 
more easily referred to a certain period of time. 
Conversion in that day, consisted of two parts. It was 
a turning from Paganism to Christianity ; and it was 
a turning from sin to holiness. Conversion therefore 
was both an event and an experience ; not an experi- 
ence only as it now is, but an event ; a thing that could 
be dated from a certain day and hour. We are to 
remember then, that conversion was not a change of 
affections only but of the whole religion ; a change of 
rites, of customs, of the whole course of life ; that it 
was a change of hopes too ; that it introduced 
men into a new world, a world of new and bright 
and astonishing revelations : that for this reason a 
new phraseology became applicable to them, not to 
their character entirely but in part to their circum- 
stances ; that they became at once, externally rather 
than internally, new creatures ; that old things passed 
away and all things became new ; that they were 
brought out of darkness into marvellous light. We 
see in all this, I say, the colouring of circumstances. 
These men were not at once made perfect and fit for 
heaven ; as the language would seem to represent ; for 
they were urged to make their calling and election 
sure. The language describes an inward change 
indeed ; but it also describes a ceremonial change. If 
the change had been altogether spiritual, we doubtless 
should have had a simpler and more accurate 
phraseology on the subject. We know indeed that an 
instantaneous and total change, of all the habits, 
thoughts, feelings and purposes of the soul, is incom- 
patible with the nature of the mind and with all proper 
moral influence upon it. 

It can require but a little reflection to convince you 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



213 



of all this. You must have observed, also, what 
injury the literal application of this language to reli- 
gious experience in later days, has produced, by awak- 
ening noisy excitement an abundant joys and rash 
confidence, and on the whole, an artificial and extrava- 
gant experience, at a moment when simplicity and mo- 
desty and anxiety and watchfulness were of all things 
the most suitable and desirable. And you must have 
reflected, how much better and fitter it would have 
been, in that moment of imaginary or real conversion, 
for the subject of it, instead of coming forth to the 
multitude to tell w 7 hat the Lord had done for his soul, 
to have gone aw r ay to his retired closet to pray, and to 
carry on the secret struggle of the religious life in his 
own bosom ; how much better for him who thinks 
himself to have been a Christian but for one hour or for 
one day, in that day, in that hour, to be silent, thought- 
ful, diffident, anxious ! 

But there is danger and great danger, on the other 
hand. Perceiving that the apostolic language had a 
special application to former times, we may imagine 
that it has little or no relation to us. The colouring 
of circumstance, which is spread over their phraseology, 
may hide from us its deep and serious meaning. We 
may imagine that the doctrine of conversion is but an 
antiquated notion, with which we have little or no 
concern. We may look upon it as the costume of 
religious experience in an ancient age, which is now 
quite laid aside. Yet how strange would it be to sup- 
pose a costume which clothed nothing, or a body of 
phraseology, if I may speak so, without a living spirit ! 
And how low r must be our conceptions of Jesus and 
his apostles, of the most spiritual teachers the world 
ever saw, if we imagine their ultimate object to have 
been, to bring about a formal change of religion, a 



214 



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mere change of rites and names ! — Their doctrine, 
may it never be forgotten ! pointed chiefly to the heart ; 
and we all have a concern with it more weighty and 
solemn than any circumstances can impose. If, my 
friends, if we are Christians only in name, if Ave hope 
for heaven only because we were born in a Christian 
land, we still need a conversion. If we are worldly ; 
if we are covetous or sensual ; if we are guided by 
inclination rather than by duty, we need a conversion ; 
not less than that which the Pagan experienced. If 
we are unkind, severe, censorious or injurious, in the 
relations or the intercourse of life ; if we are unfaithful 
parents or undutiful children ; if we are severe masters 
or faithless servants ; if we are treacherous friends or 
bad neighbours or bitter competitors, we need a conver- 
sion ; we need a change, greater than merely from 
Paganism to Christianity. If in fine we have never 
yet formed the resolute and serious purpose of leading 
a religious life ; if we do not love the duties of piety ; 
if we have not yet learnt the fear of God nor cherished 
the spirit of prayer, we need a conversion. We need 
to be anxious ; we need to fear. We need to strive to 
enter in at the straight gate. 

Religion is as full of absorbing interest now as it ever 
was. And if we ever enter this way of life, though 
our access to it will hardly be joyful and triumphant, 
if we are wise ; yet there will be — let us not take the 
part of the cold hearted scoffer ! there will be joys, 
abundant joys in its progress ; and there will be tri- 
umph, glorious triumph in its close. But first, there 
will be as of old, many an anxious struggle, many a 
serious meditation, many an earnest prayer : there 
will be, there must be watchings and fears, there must 
be striving and hope ; and then will come the triumph. 
Yes, Christian ! there will be triumph, glorious triumph ; 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



215 



when you can say, with the fervent apostle. " I have 
fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have 
kept the faith ; henceforth there is laid up for me a 
crown of righteousness which the Lord the righteous 
judge will give me at that, djty." 



11. 



To the weak became 1 as weak, that I might gain the weak ; 1 
am made all things to all men, that I might by all means save 
some. — 1. Cor. ix. 22. 

The use which has been made of this passage will 
be recollected. It manifestly supports the principle 
that Paul's instructions were modified by the circum- 
stances in which they were given. We are therefore 
led to conclude that there was something, in the man- 
ner and form of the apostolic instructions peculiar to 
the early age ; while at the same time, there is a spirit 
in them that belongs to all ages. 

Y. We have attempted in some particulars, to make 
this distinction between the local and the general 
application of them, and proceed directly to notice as 
a fifth instance of this distinction, the manner in which 
our Saviour is spoken of in the New Testament. 
Now there are two circumstances which affected this 
manner. 

The first indeed was not entirely peculiar to that 
age, but it deserves to be mentioned as stamping a 
peculiarity upon the language of the apostles concern- 
ing Jesus Christ. It was common to call a system in 
religion or philosophy familiarly by the name of its 
founder ; so that the name of the founder, became a 
kind of appellative for the system. Thus Plato, was 
the familiar name for the doctrine or philosophy of 
Plato. Thus Christians were said to be in Christ, to 
be baptised into him, to put on the Lord Jesus Christ ; 
these phrases meaning of course the principles and 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



217 



doctrines of his religion. Now this was the custom of 
the age, the style of writing and speaking ; it was 
form ; it was phraseology ; and we are perfectly at 
liberty to lay it aside when it is no longer consonant 
with our general habits of speaking ; and when we 
look less with admiration upon Jesus Christ, as the 
founder of a new system, than with veneration, as the 
Saviour of men. And yet this sort of phraseology is 
with some the test of evangelical preaching ; and 
though you speak never so clearly and fervently of 
the great principles of Christianity, it will be said, and 
perhaps contemptuously said, that "there is nothing of 
Christ in it." 

But there is another circumstance to be mentioned. 
It is this : that the apostles spoke of Jesus as eye-wit- 
nesses ; as those who had seen him in his teachings, 
in his sufferings ; who had been with him and lived 
with him ; and who would naturally speak of him 
with the warmth of a personal interest and friendship. 
These remarks apply to Paul also, for there was doubt- 
less a mutual sympathy among the early disciples, in 
these feelings ; there was a spirit of the age. Perhaps 
it is in imitation of this, without the same circum- 
stances to justify it, that there is sometimes witnessed 
an irreverent and almost shocking familiarity with the 
name of Jesus : and a neglect to consider the circum- 
stances, together with doctrinal errors, has led others, 
perhaps, to speak of Jesus Christ with an affection, 
trust and delight, far beyond what they ever ascribe to 
God the Father. So that a writer justly remarks, that 
a discourse on the goodness of God, shall pass for some- 
thing very flat, cold and common-place ; while a 
discourse on the compassion of Christ to sinners, shall 
be looked upon as containing the very marrow and 
essence of the gospel. 
19 



218 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



There certainly have been in the world, and are, very 
singular and superstitious feelings concerning Jesus 
Christ ; there is a peculiarity in men's regard towards 
him, of which I do not remember to have seen any 
explanation attempted. Nothing has been so sacred 
in religion as the name of Christ : nothing deemed so 
awful as to profane it ; not even to profane the name 
of God himself. Nothing has so tasked and awed and 
overwhelmed the minds of men, as inquiries into his 
nature and offices. Of the dread attributes of God, of 
the momentous concerns of human duty, they could 
freely reason and speculate. Concerning these sub- 
jects it has not been thought rash to inquire. Nay, it 
has been judged lawful and wise, not only to examine 
our early impressions but to modify, to change, to 
improve them. Indeed, every thing else in religion is 
open to our scrutiny. But the moment any one under- 
takes to scrutinize the character and offices of our 
Saviour, he is assailed with voices of warning. If he 
dares to doubt, he is given up for lost. It would seem 
as if there was some peculiar and superstitious fear of 
doing wrong or offence to Christ, a scrupulous care on 
this point, a punctiliousness of devotion to him ; such 
as the idolater pays to the deity he most fears, or to 
the symbol he most reverences. Or, on the other hand ? 
the same general state of mind, takes the form of a 
fond and sentimental attachment, expressed by the 
most odious and offensive freedoms of speech. And 
many really imagine that while with a kind of sympa- 
thetic fervour they are embracing the being of their 
impassioned imagination and are calling him " dear 
Saviour," and " precious Christ," and " lovely Jesus," 
they are entering into the very heart and life of 
religion. 

Without undertaking fully to account for this 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



219 



extravagant state of mind, which would lead us too 
far from our object, we may remark in passing that it 
has probabl}?-, in part, grown out of a mistaken and 
improper attempt to adopt entirely the language and 
feeling of the early disciples. The imitation has 
indeed, as usual, gone far beyond the original. For 
never did the apostles inculcate any such superstitious 
emotion of fear, or give license to any such sickening 
fondness of language concerning Christ, as has been 
witnessed in latter days. 

Far different from this, far more rational, far more 
reverential, far more profound and earnest too, is the 
gratitude and admiration which we are bound to enter- 
tain for the greatest moral Benefactor of men. The 
ages that have intervened between us and his actual 
residence on earth, have only accumulated evidences 
and illustrations of the value and grandeur of his work. 
Be it so that his teaching, his doctrine, his system of 
religion, is often figuratively called by his name ; yet 
it is none the less true that he is a real person. And 
however much cause his immediate disciples had to 
revere and love him, we have none the less. And 
although our attachment to him must be less personal 
than theirs, although it must partake less of the 
character of an intimate friendship ; yet it may be, if 
possible, even more reverential, more intellectual, more 
expanded. I know not what enthusiasm for excellence 
is ; I know not what veneration for goodness and 
gratitude for kindness are, if these sentiments do not 
peculiarly belong to the Author and Finisher of our 
blessed faith. Let me hear no more of admiration, of 
love and joy, if he who has taught me peace of mind 
and true wisdom, who has brought me nigh to God 
and opened for me the path to immortality, if he shall 
not be admired and loved, and hailed with raptures of 



220 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



joy. This is no fanatical nor superstitious emotion, 
but it is the natural, the true and sober homage of 
human feeling, to transcendent worth and loveliness 
of character, and to unspeakable goodness ; goodness 
not common and earthly, but spiritual, disinterested, 
divine ; witnessed by toils and sufferings, and sealed 
in death. 

What though the time of our Saviour's visible 
manifestation has passed away ; what though the 
footsteps of the Benefactor and the Sufferer no longer 
tread the earth, and his voice no longer speaks to the 
weaiy and heavy-laden ; what though the tears of 
Gethsemane no longer call for mortal sympathies, and 
the dark scene of Calvary has passed away from the 
awful mount, and all the wonderful memorial of what 
he was, is no longer told by living and admiring 
witnesses ; yet all this was but the preparation for his 
reign, but the passage to his throne in the lasting 
admiration and affection of men. If it is much to us 
that he once lived among men, is it not more that he 
now liveth at the right hand of God ? If it interests 
us to go back to the scene of his teaching and suffering, 
and his dying hour, does it not still more interest us 
that we may hereafter behold the same teacher, the 
same sufferer, him who was dead and is alive again, 
and liveth forevermore ? Do we not feel that in the 
coming world we have a forerunner, and that we are 
going to the dwelling-place of a friend, to mansions 
that he hath gone to prepare for us ? Is there any thing 
extravagant or enthusiastic in the expectation, that 
we shall know him whom we call our Saviour, in some 
new manner and degree, that we shall learn more and 
more of the loveliness of his character and shall hold 
with him a sacred communion, a sublime friendship, 
forever ? I think not : — if the probabilities which reason 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



221 



offers, if the revelations which the Scriptures unfold, 
may be listened to. In all this I persuade myself that 
I entertain no superstitious ideas of our Saviour. I 
regard him as I would regard any other benefactor ; 
only that he is the most exalted of all. For all the 
blessings of this life, are to me inconsiderable compared 
with what he has taught in his doctrine with what he 
has procured by his death, and consummated in his 
rising from the tomb. 

VI. I shall now introduce as a sixth and filial topic 
of illustration, the manner in which the relation of 
Christians to one another, and to the world, is spoken 
of. 

And in the first place, the relation of Christians to 
one another. The ancient fellowship of Christians, 
was something considerably different from what the 
present institutions and modes of society permit. 
They were a persecuted and proscribed class of men. 
Almost the whole world was united against them. 
Danger and death waited for them every where. 
These circumstances produced a peculiar union and 
familiarity among them. Their exposure was common, 
and they were endeared to one another : it was 
imminent, and they forgot in a measure, the ordinary 
distinctions of social life. It was no time to stand 
upon etiquette and form. The weakest member of 
their society rose into importance, when he might 
preserve the life of the most powerful, or be called on 
to give up his own life for the common cause. Hence 
the apostles exhort them, with peculiar emphasis, to 
mutual confidence, intercourse, counsel and aid, and 
even to mutual advice and exhortation. 

It does not follow that it is now expedient to break 
down all the barriers of distinction in society. It does 
not follow that it is now the duty of all Christians to 
19* 



222 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



mingle together in the intimate intercourse of life. 
The proper order of life, the different modes of living, 
different tastes and habits, different degrees of know- 
ledge and refinement, forbid it. 

Let Christians learn to love one another : this is all 
that they can now do ; and this is enough. Let those 
who come to the same sanctuary, who worship at the 
same altar, feel that respect and kindness for each 
other, which their common relation and common 
approach to the same God, should inspire. We wish 
indeed that more of the spirit of the ancient fellowship 
was among us : that there was more tenderness for 
each other's faults, more zeal and solicitude for each 
other's spiritual improvement and comfort, more mutual 
intercession at the common throne of grace. It is 
lamentable indeed, that the outward forms of society 
so much divide us, while the inward spirit so little 
unites us. We need to be often reminded that the 
external distinctions of life are vain and perishing, 
and that another order of greatness and honour will 
obtain in the world to which we are going. Let us 
oftener carry ourselves forward beyond this state of 
imperfect allotments, let us pass beyond these bounds 
of our earthly vision, and remember that he whom we 
scarcely know or notice here, may be greater and more 
beloved than w r e in that more exalted state, may be the 
greatest in the kingdom of God. Let us then free our 
minds from those low and worldly ways of thinking 
wmich too much prevail, concerning poverty and toil and 
the humble lot. It may be the best and the safest of 
all conditions. It may be only the greater trial, for the 
greater reward. It may be, as we often see it in this 
life, the retirement and obscurity that is to open to the 
most splendid distinction and glory ; a temporary 
darkness that is to give place to the brightest day. 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



223 



Again ; it is to be remarked, that the description of 
those who were called from the world into the Christian 
church, is not in all respects applicable to the present 
time. We are told that " Not many noble, not many 
mighty, not many wise, were called," but that the poor 
of this world were made rich in faith, and the ignorant 
were made wise unto salvation. If you look at the 
state of things in that day, you will see a special 
reason for all this. The profession of Christianity was 
disgraceful. To take the name of Christian was to 
take the name of infamy. The chief Apostle tells us 
that he and his companions were accounted the off- 
scouring of the world. Now the persons who would 
be most susceptible of the fear of disgrace, were the 
great, the noble ; men who were in high and con- 
spicuous stations, who had a character at stake, and 
who lived in a state of society too, where honour was 
even more regarded than it is now. Not so the poor, 
the ignorant, the unknown, who were already degraded 
and trampled on by their superiors, and who had no 
honour to lose. 

Besides ; those who bore rule often considered 
themselves as pledged by their office, to persecute 
Christianity. They regarded it as the rival of their 
religion and the enemy of their power. How then 
could many such be expected to embrace it ! 

And with regard to the wise of that day, let it be 
considered what sort of wise persons they were : wise 
in sophistry, wise in the subtleties of Grecian specula- 
tion and the jargon of the Oriental philosophy, wise in 
their own conceit, and looking down with ineffable 
contempt on the vulgar. Would these men conde- 
scend to be taught by a few fishermen from Galilee? 
Would they hear of a teacher from the despised land 
of Judea? 



224 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



But things are now changed. The intelligent 
among us are not like the sages of those days. 
Learning is more allied to common sense and has 
taken the garb of modesty. The powerful and great 
among us, have not the same reasons for rejecting 
Christianity. The profession of it is respectable. It 
is the religion of the land. And we can point to many 
great and mighty and wise, who profess and adorn it. 
And on the whole, in a general and fair estimate, there 
is probably more virtue, more regard to the Christian 
religion, among the higher than among the lower 
classes of our communities. 

It is altogether unwarrantable therefore, to apply the 
ancient comparison to the present state of things. 
Yet there are not wanting examples of such a com- 
parison. If for instance, one form of Christianity 
attracts the more intelligent, opulent and respectable 
classes of society : if there is a progress, an improve- 
ment in the views of religion, which generally, we do 
not say universally, draws the respect and attention of 
more improved minds, and if the opposer of these 
views is annoyed by the reflection and mortified by the 
comparison ; "Ah ! my brethren, he says, ye know how 
it is written, that not many wise, not many mighty, 
not many noble are called but the foolish things and 
the weak things and the base things, and things that 
are depised, hath God chosen." Now I shall seriously 
and boldly say, that he ought to know better than to 
make such an application of Scripture. By this rule 
of judging, he might level and degrade all that is 
dignified and respectable in society ! 

The higher and the more prosperous classes of the 
community undoubtedly, have their dangers and faults. 
These we shall be led to notice however, under the 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



225 



remaining topic of this general head ; viz. the relation 
of the Christian church to the world. 

Here too it may be easily shown, I think, that the 
language of the Epistles needs to be qualified in its 
application to us ; the language, I say, which describes 
the relation of the Christian church to the world. It 
was said of Christians, that they had not the spirit of 
the world, but the spirit which is of God; and they 
were commanded not to be conformed to the world. 
They were directed to come out from the surrounding 
world, and to be separate, and not to touch the unclean 
thing. Now this language is understood by many, as 
literally applicable to our present circumstances, though 
our circumstances are immensely different from those 
of the early Christians. And it may well be feared, 
that the habit of applying the Apostolic representations 
of the Heathen world, to the world around us, and of 
making the same distinction between the church and 
the world that then existed, has awakened in some 
Christians an unamiable pride and vanity, has helped 
to give them a stiffness and repulsiveness of manners 
towards others, and has made them less friendly, kind 
and social in their intercourse with men, generally, 
than they otherwise would have been. He who takes 
up the notion that all around him, excepting the 
few who belong to the church, are at heart enemies to 
him on account of his religion, and deserve the 
characteristics and the appellations that the Apostles 
anciently gave to the Pagan world, and that to himself 
also belong, on account of his moral superiority, all 
distinctive titles of dignity and excellence, which were 
applied in part to the circumstances of the early 
Christians; he who holds these views, I say, cannot 
fail to have his amiableness and modesty affected by 
them. He may think that all men are his enemies, 



226 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



and he may treat them as if they were so; and when 
they testify, as they well may, their displeasure or 
their ridicule, at his forbidding and sanctimonious 
deportment, he may think himself persecuted for 
righteousness' sake, but he is greatly mistaken ! 

The truth is, there is no such distinction between 
the church and the world, as there was in the early 
age. There is no such distinction of character, as the 
language in question describes: and it never was 
designed solely to describe a distinction of character, 
but in part a difference of circumstances, a difference 
of religion, of privileges, of knowledge, of moral advan- 
tages. Recollect that the worst churches, that the 
Corinthian church, amidst all its shameful disputes, its 
more shameful vices, and its awful profanation of the 
Lord's Supper, still enjoyed all these high and distinc- 
tive titles of superiority ; and you must conclude that 
these distinctions were in part ascribed to their outward 
state. Recollect that the Jews, in the worst periods of 
their history, were still " a chosen people, a holy nation," 
and you will have an exemplification of the same 
thing. 

The world in the times of the apostles, was a Pagan 
world, and was emphatically hostile to the Christian 
church. The two were widely and visibly distin- 
guished. It is true indeed, that there is, and ever was, 
a wide distinction between good and bad men. And 
it will be admitted by us all, I presume, that there is, 
at this day, more of a serious purpose and endeavour 
to lead a pious life, more reading and studying of the 
Scriptures, more prayer and persevering virtue, within 
the church than without it. And much were it to be 
wished that it ivere, indeed, more distinguished from 
the spirit of the world, than any language can describe. 
But as the case really and unfortunately is ; to draw 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



227 



a line of distinction, and to say, that on the one side, 
is all the goodness and piety in the world, and on the 
other none at all ; this is more than modesty would 
claim on one part, and more than justice ought to 
admit on the other. And yet, all the outcry there is 
about confounding the church and the world, is sup- 
ported by the notion of such a distinction ; is supported, 
by the particular and local and circumstantial repre- 
sentations that belonged to the apostolic age. 

But still we must contend that there is a world to 
be feared ; or to speak more accurately there is a spirit 
of the world which is to be feared ; and the more so, 
just in proportion as it is less suspected. We are not 
required to withdraw from the general intercourse of 
society, as the early Christians were ; we have to do 
what is far harder ; to live in the world, and yet to with- 
stand the spirit of the world. When the Christian 
band was small and persecuted, and hemmed in by a 
surrounding and hostile community, it was not so diffi- 
cult to preserve its unity and good fellowship and 
consistency of character. Then there was a visible 
and formal separation. On one side there was open 
hostility; on the other, unqualified jealousy and dread. 

Now what we have to fear in the world is no longer 
visible. It is a foe in ambush. It is the spirit of the 
world. It is an influence, secret, subtle, insinuating, 
which leads us captive before we are aware, and which 
leads us, not to martyrdom but, to compliance. Alas ! 
(we had almost said,) it does not bear our souls on the 
mounting flame to heaven, but it chains and fastens 
them down to the earth. There is such a spirit, 
though we may see it not, that is more to be dreaded 
than the arm of persecution. There is a spirit of 
business, absorbing, eager, over-reaching ; ungenerous 
and hard in its dealings, keen and bitter in its compe- 



228 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



titions, low and earthly in its purposes : there is a 
spirit of fashion, vain, trifling, thoughtless, fond of 
display, dissipating the mind, wasting the time, and 
giving its chief stimulus and its main direction to the 
life ; there is a spirit of ambition, selfish, mercenary, 
restless, circumventing, living but in the opinion of 
others, envious of others good fortune, or miserably 
vain of its own success ; there is a spirit, in the world 
of business, in the world of amusement, in the world 
of ambition, which is to be dreaded. Even in our best 
employments, there is something to fear. There is a 
spirit of reading merely for gratification ; or of writing, 
for credit ; of going to church for entertainment ; of 
praying with formality ; and of preaching, shall I say 
it? of preaching with selfish aims, which is to be 
dreaded, and in the latter case, to be abhorred. Ah ! my 
friends, it is a dangerous world that we live in. The 
best, the wisest, the purest have found it to be so. To 
fall into the wide-sweeping current of its influence and 
to be borne along with it, may be easy, may be plea- 
sant, but it is not safe. There is, if I may specify 
once more, there is a spirit, which is of the world, a 
spirit whose low habits belong to this world, rather than 
to any expectation of a better, whose fears and hopes 
and anxieties are all limited to these earthly scenes, 
which is grasping for an earthly treasure and forgets 
the heavenly ; there is a mind, that is fascinated and 
engrossed by things seen and temporal, and indifferent 
to things unseen and eternal ; there is a prevailing 
forgetfulness of God, there is an insensibility to the 
worth of the soul, to its necessities and dangers, to the 
need of prayer and effort to guard it in temptations 
and to guide it in its solemn probation for the future ; 
in one word, there is a pervading spirit of religious 
indifference, which is to be dreaded. 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



229 



In the external habits and actions of life, as has 
been already said, we cannot be greatly distinguished : 
but there is a harder distinction to attain ; it is in the 
internal habits of the mind. In this respect it is, that 
we are still commanded to come out and be separate. 
In this respect it is not safe for us to live as the world 
lives. Nor is it safe for us to live carelessly in the 
world. Not only is the moral atmosphere around us 
infected, but we breathe it, we live in it, and it presses 
us on every side. In these circumstances, every 
solemn admonition of the Scripture, relating to the 
world, may, in the spirit of it, be properly applied to us 
at this day. In these circumstances, we need, as men 
ever have needed and ever will need, a faith that over- 
comes the world. 

On the whole, let us remember, that although the 
circumstances of the early revelation have passed 
away, the religion itself, has, if I may speak so, an 
everlasting freshness and novelty. There was some- 
thing in the instructions of the apostles that was appro- 
priate to their age ; but all that is essential and spiritual 
remain for us. There is a broad basis of moral truth ; 
there is an everlasting foundation, on which the men 
of all ages may stand. Though the form of its super- 
structure shows the architecture of the age, though 
some of its former appendages on which Christians 
gazed with admiration, have fallen off, though the 
burnished dome no longer kindles in the first splendours 
of the morning, yet the mighty temple of its worship 
is still open for us to enter, and to offer the lowly 
homage of our devotion. 

In fine, though the form and the costume and the 
aspects of circumstance have fallen off, with the signs 
and wonders of the early age, religion is but presented 
to us, in a more sublime and spiritual character. And 
20 



230 



USE OF THE EPISTLES. 



our progress in this religion will be marked by a closer 
adherence and a more exclusive regard to the spirit 
and essence of it, and a less concern about particular 
modes of phraseology and the particular forms of its 
exhibition. We shall pass through the intervening 
vails, which different dispensations and different ages, 
which systematic speculations and sectarian prejudices 
have thrown around it, and shall approach the great 
reality. We shall pass through the rent vail of the 
temple, and enter " the holy of holies." We shall thus 
make our progress in knowledge and devotion, a suit- 
able preparation for a state of being more spiritual and 
sublime ; where infirmity shall no longer need forms 
to support it ; nor inquiry guards to preserve it ; where 
different systems and dispensations shall no more mis- 
lead, nor prejudice, nor divide us ; but there shall be 
one eternal conviction, that of the truth : and one 
eternal dispensation, the dispensation of the spirit. 



ON MIRACLES, 

PRELIMINARY TO THE ARGUMENT FOR A REVELATION. 

BEING THE DUDLEIAN LECTURE DELIVERED BEFORE HARVARD 
UNIVERSITY, MAY, 1836. 



And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful ? How is it that 
ye have no faith ? And they feared exceedingly, and said one 
to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind 
and the sea obey him 1 — Mark iv. 40, 41. 

The power of Jesus on the occasion here referred 
to, was undoubtedly miraculous. Without dwelling 
on the circumstances, which are familiar to you, I wish 
to call your attention to two points in the narrative, as 
fairly presenting the subject of my present discourse. 
One is the natural astonishment of the disciples, 
amounting almost to a reluctance to believe what their 
eyes beheld. " What manner of man is this, that even 
the wind and the sea obey him V The other point, 
to which I wish to draw your attention, is the language 
of rebuke with which our Saviour addresses this feeling 
of incredulity. " How is it that ye have no faith ?" 
And I may add that he frequently reproaches, in similar 
terms, the want of faith in his miraculous powers. 

Now it is this presumption against miracles ; in other 
words, it is the preliminary ground of the argument for 
Christianity, that I propose in this discourse to examine. 
And of such importance do I hold this preliminary view 
of the subject, that I think it Avill make all the differ- 
ence, with many minds, between believing in Chris- 
tianity, and not believing. That is to say, the evidences 



232 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



of revelation are strong enough to produce belief, if it 
were not for this presumption against them. Let there 
be no prejudice against miracles ; let it appear, in any 
man's account, perfectly reasonable and philosophical 
to admit them ; let him regard it as extremely probable 
that the Supreme Being would interpose for our spir- 
itual relief ; and then I say, that he must feel the 
evidence, actually offered, to be ample and overwhelm- 
ing. It is not from the weakness of the proof, but from 
the strength of the presumption against it, that it fails 
of producing conviction. 

That there is this presumption against miracles, I 
hardly need say. It appears in many forms. There 
has always been a prejudice of this nature lurking in 
the bosom of science. The doctrine of philosophical 
necessity seems to me to proceed from the same source, 
though I am aware that its advocates do not deny the 
Christian attestation to those facts which we denomi- 
nate miraculous. The modern system of German 
Rationalism is a standing and recorded proof of the 
same presumption against miracles. Nay, with some 
writers this presumption has amounted to an assertion 
of the essential incredibility of such facts.* And where 

* The essentialin credibility of miracles, the impossibility indeed 
of such occurrences, has lately been argued by an English writer, 
the author of " Essays on the Pursuit of Truth," in the Third Essay. 
It is the old argument of Mr. Hume ; but it is presented with great 
clearness, in a manner at once very calm and imposing, and without 
any of those terms that would indicate its purpose, or any consid- 
eration of the answers that have been, and may be given to it. 

The course of the author's argument is as follows. In the first 
place, he maintains that all reasoning, belief and knowledge depend 
on the uniformity of causation ; in other words, upon the regular 
succession of antecedents and consequents. That most of them do, 
is doubtless true. We could not anticipate the future nor interpret 
the past, but upon the supposition that the same principles have 
been, and will be in operation, that are now. But whether there is 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 233 



it falls short of this, it is still a secret reluctance to 
receive them. And I think this reluctance has some 
unusual developement among many reflecting persons 

no other basis or source of belief, is the question. Most philoso- 
phers have persuaded themselves that the world had a beginning, — 
an event which quite breaks in upon their order of se]ue ices. 

In the next place, the author maintains that our belief in the 
uniformity of causation is instinctive, original, ultimate, and irre- 
sistible in the mind. That a general sense of preference of order is 
so, I believe ; and that experience working upon this, or without it, 
must create a very strong conviction of the regularity of nature, is 
obvious ; but whether any thing more than this is true, I must 
doubt. 

But I am willing to give the argument the benefit, on both points, 
of any doubts that do not involve a begging of the question, and 
come at once to the conclusion. The question, then, of miracles is 
brought to the point of conflicting testimonies. Nature, on the one 
hand, testifies, it is said, to undeviating regularity. Change, then, 
is impossible. Man's testimony, too, is valuable, and has its regu- 
larity as truly as nature ; but it is more liable to be mistaken, or we 
are mure liable to mistake its marks, and therefore it can never 
counterbalance the testimony of nature. Therefore a miracle is 
impossible ; and the belief in it, absurd. 

This argument proves too much. For suppose now that 1 acqui- 
esce in the conclusion, and quietly take my seat in this pinfold of 
philosophy, what does this argument suppose me to say ? Or what 
does the skeptic say, who strives to lift his head high enough (but 
cannot) above the machinery of causes, to declare their laws, and 
processes, and bounds ? 

In the first place, he says that God Almighty either cannot change 
the course of things, though he should please to do it, or else that 
He will not please to do it. For the reader will observe, that such 
a change is pronounced, without qualification, impossible ! To know 
so much of the Omniscient purpose, — to know so little of the Omni- 
potent power, — presents a solecism in which it is difficult to tell 
whether the ignorance or the presumption is the most extraordinary. 

In the second place, this argument would prove that the world 
and the universe are eternal. They could never have begun, they 
can never cease to exist ; for either fact would be a deviation from 
the uniformity of causation. In the one case, there would be a 
consequent without any regular antecedent. In the other, an ante- 
cedent without any regular consequent. Nay, since the author holds 

20* 



234 



THE ARGUMENT PROM MTRACLES. 



in this country, at the present moment. It is seen in 
the disposition of many to turn from the miracles to 
what they call the internal evidence. It is not uncom- 
mon in society to hear the miracles spoken of slightly. 
There is in every age, a fashion of thinking ; and the 
fashion of thinking at the present day, I conceive, is 
growing more and more adverse to these primitive, 
peculiar, and hitherto received evidences of revelation. 
It seems to be thought by some, that the day has gone 
by for talking about miracles ; that they answered a 
purpose indeed in the primitive age, but have no longer 
any use. Not a few are saying, " Our feelings convince 

that there is the same unchangeable order of sequences in the intel- 
lectual as in the physical world, the race of men can have, in this 
theory, neither beginning nor end. In short, this assumption seems 
to me to be compatible with nothing but Atheism. If there be no 
Power superior to nature, none that can interfere with its processes, 
then perhaps it is fair to infer that its processes must go on 
unchanged and unchangeable. But if there is a God, the possibility 
of change is equal to his power ; it is unbounded and unques- 
tionable. 

In the third place, the argument proves too much, because it goes 
beyond all reasonable and known bounds of skepticism. The author 
who says to his fellow-men, " You cannot justly believe in a miracle ; 
the thing is impossible, and faith is impossible," transcends the 
bounds of all human experience, if not of all human patience. 
Because almost all men, who have ever lived, have believed in 
miracles. And is not the very question before us, in fact, a question 
about experience ? Could all men have believed in miracles, if, as 
our author contends, an original and fundamental law of the mind 
forbade their believing in them ? Is it not as unphilosophical, as it 
is intolerable, to say that all mankind have been found believing in 
a thing which is plainly impossible ? What is meant by its being 
impossible ? That God cannot perform it ? I will not impute to 
any one the intentional blasphemy of such an averment. Is it 
meant, then, that it is impossible that we should believe it ? But 
we do believe it. We can believe it. All men do and can ; all but 
the few, the very few who agree with our author. Is there any 
remaining idea, then, that can be attached to the word impossible ? 
I know of none. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 235 

us, that Christianity is true ; the book convinces us 
that it is true ; and we want no other evidence." It 
was in this feeling, obviously, that Coleridge exclaimed. 
" Evidences of Christianity ! 1 am weary of the word. 
Make a man feel the want of it ; rouse him. if you can, 
to the self-knowledge of his need of it ; and you may 
safely trust it to its own evidence."* 

That this way of thinking is unphilosophical, that 
it does not properly perceive the very ground on which 
it professes to stand, that the reluctance to receive 
miracles, though natural and reasonable, to a certain 
extent, is unphilosophical when it amounts to a strong 
prejudice or presumption against them ; nay more, that 
on a whole view of the case, the presumption ought, 
in fact, to be the other way, is what I shall now attempt 
to show. 

But as this way of thinking arises in part, I believe, 
from a misconception of the place which miracles 
properly hold in the Christian system, let me employ 
a word or two of explanation on this point. A man 
says, that he cannot regard miracles as the great things 
in Christianity, since he assigns that place to its doc- 
trines, and precepts and spirit. Neither do Ave ask him 
to regard miracles as the great things. It has been 
well said of the miracles, that " they are like the massive 
subterranean arches and columns of a huge building. 
It is not on their account that we prize the building, 
but the building for its own sake. We do not think 
of the foundation nor care about it, other than to know 
that it has one. We dwell above in the upper and 
fairer halls. The crowds go in and out, and rejoice in 
their comforts and splendours, without ever casting a 
thought on that upon which the whole so peacefully 

* Aids to Reflection, p. 240, Amcr. ed. 



236 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

and securely reposes. Such are the miracles to the 
gospel. They support the edifice, and upon a divine 
foundation. They show us, that if the superstructure 
is fail and beautiful to dwell in, and if its towers 
and endless flights of steps appear to reach even up 
to heaven, it is all just what it seems to be ; for it 
rests upon the broad foundation of the Rock of 
Ages.^ 

This observation will apply, perhaps, to the case of 
those who say, that they do not feel the miracles to be 
necessary to their faith in Christianity. When they 
say this, they must mean by faith, that moral appre- 
hension of the spirit and power of Christianity, that 
sense of the spiritual relief and comfort that it brings, 
which does not, it is true, depend on miracles ; in other 
words, that view of the superstructure which does not, 
it is true, immediately depend on any view of a foun- 
dation. But this view presupposes a speculative or 
traditional belief in the Christian Religion; or, if it, 
does not, then it is just like a faith in any other good 
writings; that is, simply a belief that they are good 
and wise, and therefore true ; and if true, accordant 
with the will of God. In this sense, we have faith in 
all the dictates of reason. But Christianity we receive 
as a special revelation, an authoritative record of God ? s 
w T ilJ ; and in this character it must have some attesta- 
tion beyond its general consonance w T ith our rational 
or moral nature; else every demonstration in the 
mathematics, and every undisputed principle in moral 
philosophy, would be a revelation. That attestation, 
I say, is miracle. 

The state of opinion on this subject makes it neces- 
sary, perhaps, before proceeding farther, that I should 



* Rev. William Ware. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 237 

define the word miracle. All Christians of whom 1 
know any thing, in this country, hold to miracles in 
some sense. I wish distinctly to say this ; because if 
the sense which I affix to this word, as the only one 
satisfactory to myself, is not received by others, I would 
by no means leave it to be inferred, that there is any 
professed difference of opinion between us as to the 
miraculous origin of Christianity. There is only a 
friendly question between us about the meaning which 
ought to be assigned to this word. 

What then is a miracle ? I answer, It is an inter- 
ruption or ceasing of the regular and established 
succession of events, taking place in connexion with 
the mission of a person professing to be sent from God, 
and designed to give that proof of his mission. I say, 
an interruption or ceasing of the regular and established 
succession of events, and that for a specific purpose. 
A miracle is a fact, like to which nothing ever has 
occurred, or ever will occur but for the same purpose. 
I lay stress upon its being a simple fact. In regard to 
the succession of events, I say nothing of causation or 
necessity, of which we know nothing. I do not 
conceive that one event compels another, as the cogs 
of one wheel push on another wheel. I take the bare 
facts. Since the world began it was not known that a 
blind man received sight at a word, or that a man with 
a broken limb, or that a dead body, already in the first 
stages of putrefaction, instantly and at a word, 
recovered vigour and activity. Such events, we say, on 
certain occasions, and for certain purposes, without 
precedent, without parallel, have taken place. They 
are the miracles. 

Now the question is, What is the fair and philo- 
sophical description of these events? On this point 
there is a strong reluctance in many minds to admit 



238 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



that there was any thing, in these cases, out of the 
course of nature or contrary to it; any interruption of 
the order of nature or suspension of its processes, or 
departure from its regularity. They say, that there 
may have been causes in nature or in the mind, which, 
though unknown to us, are sufficient to account for the 
results in question. I object to the word "causes," as 
implying an efficient power in one event to produce 
another, of which we know nothing. And therefore I 
consider the word " interposition," though proper enough 
to be used in popular discourse, to be strictly speaking 
unphilosophical, since it implies that one event has an 
inherent power to produce another, and conveys the 
impression of a hand thrust in to stay the event that 
would otherwise take place. This may be true, but 
we do not know it. We come then to the bare facts. 
And, if we deal with facts alone, I see not how it can 
be denied that a miracle is something out of the course 
of nature, and contrary to it ; an interruption of its 
order, a suspension of its processes. On this point, a 
distinction is sometimes made between a real interrup- 
tion and an apparent interruption ; and it is contended 
that the interruption is only apparent. But in speaking 
of facts, submitted to the observation of our senses, it 
appears to me, that we must conceive of real and 
apparent as the same thing. That is to say, if such a 
fact or such an event, as one of the Christian miracles, 
never appeared before, and never shall appear again 
but at the intervention of some divinely commissioned 
agent, then it is a real departure from the order of 
nature, — that is, from the universally received and 
known order of events, which is all that we know of 
the order of nature. In other words, the whole thing 
is a peculiarity; a special conjunction of events for a 
particular purpose. And, for myself, I certainly feel 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 239 



none of this strong repugnance to the idea of an inter- 
rupted succession of events. I have no respect for the 
mechanical order of nature, that makes me feel as if it 
could not be changed. I do not see that the moral 
purpose of that order is at all impaired by occasional 
departures from it. Surely, the Almighty Will is not 
bound in the chains of fate, or of nature, or by the 
powers of nature. I am unable to see, why the 
Infinite Parent may not change the course of his 
providence for the benefit of his children, as well as a 
human parent may change the course of his adminis- 
tration for a similar purpose. Not, indeed, that it 
would be an unforeseen expedient with the Omniscient 
Ruler; but I cannot see that its being foreseen alters 
at all the state of the facts. 

But now let us grant for the sake of the argument, that 
the miracles are, as the modern interpreter proposes to 
consider them, only seeming miracles ; only apparent, 
not real interruptions of the order of nature. Would 
they then be valid evidence of revelation? When 
Jesus says, "Peace, be still," the winds and waves 
sink to an instant calm. It was wonderful ; it appeared 
miraculous ; but it was miraculous, say some, only to 
the ignorance or misapprehension of the observers. 
There was a sudden lulling of the winds and waves, 
which to the disciples, seemed miraculous. Or there 
were causes in the bosom of those turbulent elements, 
however hidden from us, which produced that sudden 
calm ; and such occurrences may yet come to be as 
well known, if not as familiar, as any of the pheno- 
mena of nature. But then, I ask, would there be any 
evidence of a special divine commission ? To illustrate 
the case, let us make a supposition ; or let us take a 
piece of real history. Soon after the arrival of 
Columbus on the shore of the New World, there was 



240 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

an eclipse of the sun. The rude inhabitants had never, 
perhaps, remarked such an event before. Columbus, 
for a certain purpose, informs them that the sun will 
be darkened, and he predicts the precise day, and hour, 
and moment, when it will happen. The people hold 
their minds in suspense till the hour arrives, and then, 
witnessing the result, they come to the conclusion 
that Columbus is a supernatural being, and they 
reverence him as such. It was to them a miracle. 
But, in after times, suppose that this people, or their 
descendants, should study astronomy. What then 
would be their conclusion? Would they not say, 
" We were deceived ?" And what other than this 
could be the conclusion, if it should at length be 
discovered, that the miracles of Jesus belonged to the 
natural, though at that time unknown, order of events. 

But let us see now, if miracles, in the sense which 
I contend for, do not inevitably belong to the Christian 
system. Is it possible that those who originally wit- 
nessed them could have received them in any other 
light? "We never saw it on this wise; since the 
world began, such things were never seen," is their 
language. If all this belonged to the order of nature, 
must they not have been grossly deceived ; and deceived 
too, with the knowledge, if not intention, of the first 
teachers of Christianity? 

But further ; is there any one branch of the Christian 
evidences that does not involve miracles of the character 
contended for ? Does not the argument from prophecy, 
and does not the argument from the early spread of 
Christianity, clearly proceed on this ground ? In the 
one case, more than the natural prescience of any 
human mind is supposed ; in the other, more than 
any known powers of persuasion. Nay, do not the 
very attempts to explain away miracles still leave 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 241 

unexplained miracles, unexplained departures from the 
order of nature ? It is said for instance, in regard to 
the cases of the sick healed, and the dead raised to life, 
that we cannot aver that the powers of nature were 
suspended or modified, because we are not acquainted 
with all the powers of nature ; because there may 
have been a secret power in the sick or the dead body 
suddenly to restore it to health or life. But, granting 
this, still the knowledge of the exact time when that 
event was to happen must have been miraculous. 
Let us take, for example, the miracle recorded in our 
text. Our Saviour arose and rebuked the wind and 
the sea, and there was a great calm. Will it be 
pretended by any honest believer in Christianity, that 
Jesus acted upon a very sagacious judgment with 
regard to the signs of the weather ? Surely not. The 
only tolerable supposition of him who receives Christi- 
anity, but rejects the miracles, is that there were 
powers in nature, though beyond human penetration, 
which produced that sudden calm. But then, it is 
necessary, I repeat, to suppose a miraculous knowledge 
in him, who discerned either that power, or the moment 
of its operation. Or, if any one should say that there 
are powers in the mind, with which we are unac- 
quainted, and if he should maintain a natural, moral 
connexion between the mind of him who spake and 
that sinking of the winds and waves, then, I should 
say, granting an action so entirely gratuitous and so 
utterly inconceivable — that such instances occurring 
once, and never afterwards, were themselves miracles. 
If that were not a miraculous effect of mind on matter, 
we ou^ht to see something of it still. 

Miracle, then, holds its place in every honest expla- 
nation of the external evidences of Christianity : and 
I think the same is true of the internal evidence. 
21 



242 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

With regard to this branch of the argument, various 
and vague impressions are prevailing which seem to 
me to possess no weight whatever, as furnishing 
substantive proof. They may be useful preliminaries 
or auxiliaries to conviction, but they are not its foun- 
dations. Such are the ideas that are entertained of 
the moral charm and beauty of the Scriptures, or of 
their adaptation to human wants ; not to mention those 
enthusiasts, who profess to have a secret and intuitive 
perception of the divinity of those writings. But, 
granting the singular moral beauty and charm of the 
Scriptures, I see not how it constitutes proof. Sup- 
pose that a person had never heard of a revelation, 
and, seeking light and rest for his mind, were to take 
up some of the writings of Fenelon. Would he not 
feel the same kind of impression ? Would he not be 
charmed with their beauty, and their adaptation to 
his necessities, and say, " This is just what I wanted ; 
this must be the truth of God." And would he not 
very justly say this ? What, then, would be the 
distinction between the writings of Fenelon and the 
records of inspiration ? There is a difference between 
truth and revealed truth. A thing may be true, whe- 
ther it is revealed or not ; nay, it must be true inde- 
pendently of that consideration. But, Is it revealed to 
be true ? is the question ; and that question is over- 
looked in this view of the internal evidences. So in 
the writings of the " divine Plato " the reader will be 
amazed and charmed with the elevation, the exqui- 
site moral discrimination and beauty of some of his 
thoughts ; but will this prove that they are inspired ? 
Indeed, it must be confessed, I think, that there is not 
one moral precept of the New Testament, but it may 
be found in the old heathen philosophers. 

The only valid internal evidence which the New 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



243 



Testament contains of being a revelation, is found in 
the proposition, that these writings possess altogether 
a character, for which nothing but special divine illu- 
mination can account. If some rustic youth should 
come to you with Newton's Principia in his hand, and 
satisfy you that he was its author, the fact would not 
be more astonishing, than it is that the fishermen of 
Galilee should have produced such a book as the New 
Testament. The character of Jesus is itself a moral 
miracle. This is evidence : and it will be more and 
more convincing, as we more and more clearly under- 
stand the nature of moral phenomena, the power of 
moral prejudice, and the difficulty of moral progress. 

Still then, I find miracle in every species of satis- 
factory and substantive proof. And now I would 
ask, if there is any conceivable and sufficient evidence 
of revelation, but miracles ? Suppose a man to stand 
before you and to say, " I am the # bearer of a special 
communication from God." What would you— what 
must you ask of him, as the credentials of his mission ? 
His air might be noble, his doctrine excellent, his speech 
divine. His communication might thrill you with awe, 
or with rapture. Would that satisfy you? If you 
were an enthusiast, it might ; but if you were a phi- 
losopher, I am sure it would not. He might tell you 
things which above all things you wished to know. 
He might tell you, as Swedenborg has professed to do, 
of the very state of the blest who have departed from 
you, and of your own future state, how you were to 
live in that unknown world ; and you might wish to 
believe it. What could make you believe it ? I can 
conceive of but one thing, — a miracle. If he came 
from an earthly monarch, you would demand his cre- 
dentials ; the signet ring, or the sign manual. The 
chosen seal of the Almighty Monarch is ?niracle ! 



244 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

But I hear it said, " Could you receive a communi- 
cation as from heaven, if it were evidently of bad ten- 
dency ? And if not, then is not the excellence of the 
communication a part of the evidence?" I answer, 
No ; it is only something presupposed in a case ; not 
the proof that makes out the case. If a man under- 
takes to prove any thing to me, he must undertake to 
prove something that is credible. I cannot listen to 
him but upon that condition. It would be incredible, 
— a case not to be supposed nor argued upon, that the 
Almighty had sent to me a communication of evil 
tendency. I demand this condition then, that the 
message be good, but the condition is not the proof. 
That a thing is credible is necessary to its being cred- 
ited : but the credibility of a thing is not to be con- 
founded with the belief of it. The former is one of 
the postulates : the latter is the conclusion. They 
are completely distinct. Thus the lawyer, who argues 
in behalf of his client to a jury, must make a case that 
is credible ; but the credibility is no part of the argu- 
ment. And the juror who should say, "I was con- 
vinced by the internal likelihood of the case, and not 
by the witnesses nor by the arguments," would be 
thought a very bad reasoner, however well-disposed a 
man. 

I have dwelt longer on this point than I wished : 
but it seemed to me important to show, if it be true, 
that Christianity is really founded on miracles, and 
that all attempts to escape from them in the matter of 
revelation are vain, and are especially proved to be 
vain by the very efforts to explain them away, to 
which their rejectors are driven. 

But now let us examine, in as few words as may 
suffice, that presumption against miracles from which 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



245 



these efforts have apparently risen, and see whether 
the presumption ought not in fact to be the other way. 

And, first of all, I must beseech the inquirer to ap- 
proach this subject in the purest spirit of philosophy. 
It is the constant suggestion of unbelief, that, to sup- 
port the argument for a revelation, prejudice is neces- 
sary. Now I say, that is precisely the aid that we do 
not want. Nay more, I say that prejudice is the very 
obstacle, and the main obstacle, tu true faith. I ask 
the skeptic to lay aside his prejudices. I ask him to 
be a philosopher ; and yet more distinctively I say, a 
philosopher of the inductive school. Let him reason 
upon facts. Let him take nothing for granted. Let 
him assert nothing which he does not know ; and 
deny nothing which, for all that he knows, may be 
true. 

Now let us see how much is cut off from the ground 
of this inquiry by these discriminations. You are not 
to deny the possibility of miracles. Evidently, he who 
made and who controls all things, can modify and 
change them if it be his pleasure. The act of creation 
is but the grandest of miracles.* 

* " The act of creation is but the grandest of miracles." This 
idea occurs in some of the French writers. 1 have met with it, I 
think, in Necker's " Moral Religieuse," and in the French preachers. 
But it seems to be used by them, rather as a figure of speech than 
otherwise. I do not introduce it as such. I hold it to be a philo- 
sophical truth. The act of the creation is the producing of new 
forms of being, out of the usual course of production. It is an 
event without any antecedent in the processes of nature. It is " a 
deviation from the uniformity of causation." And that is the defi- 
nition of a miracle. That it is the commencement of a series of 
events does not affect this conclusion. The point of departure 
from the ordinary modes of production is none the lets deviation, 
none the less miracle, for the regularity that follows. If the earth 
were suddenly arrested in its course, and made to take a retrograde 
movement through its orbit, for thousands of years, the point of 

21* 



246 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



Again, you are not to say or suppose, that there is 
any difficult)?- in the performance of miracles, or that 
it requires any extraordinary, or any new exertion of 
divine power to produce the changes in question. You 
do not know but that every event in the universe 
springs from an immediate exertion of divine power, 
and, therefore, that one result is as naturally and 
easily produced, as another. In other words, you are 
not at liberty in the spirit of true philosophy, to regard 

change would be miracle, and none the less miracle for the regu- 
larity that followed. And surely it would be no Jess a miracle, if a 
world were suddenly created ; if solid matter instantly, at a word, 
filled the void space, and were launched forth upon its mighty 
career. All the difference in the cases, with reference to the point 
in hand, is made by an unphilosophical idea of causes : as if there 
were a tendency in antecedents to produce their consequents ; a 
pushing on of one event by another ; of which we know nothing. 
And yet even then we might say, that there were causes in that 
void space to keep it void, and that those causes were arrested by 
the creative act which filled that space with, matter. 

When life is communicated to a dead body, what is that but the 
creation of life ? Suppose that a human being were instantly cre- 
ated before our eyes, in full size and strength, would not that be 
just as great a deviation from the usual and natural course of pro- 
duction, as it is to raise a dead body to life ? 

I have supposed, in another part of the Discourse, a world to be 
created in our sight. But, to present a more palpable case, and 
<ne directly beneath our eyes, suppose that, as we were looking 
upon a barren and blasted heath, it were suddenly covered with a 
crop of grain, ripe for the harvest. That would be creation, and 
that would be a miracle. And if we and many more saw that mi- 
racle, and knew moreover that it was wrought in attestation of a 
divine commission; nay more, if we harvested the grain, and 
ground and ate it, it would not only be philosophical to believe, 
but impossible to doubt. Thus, if I may speak so, did the Christian 
witnesses handle the evidence of the miracles they record. 

But I am not now to pursue this argument beyond the point which 
is immediately before me, to wit, the credibility of miracles. And 
for this credibility, on the strictest grounds of philosophy, I say that 
the fact of creation is a sufficient warrant. 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 247 

nature as a piece of mechanism ; as a clock, for in- 
stance, which is wound up and has a natural or ne- 
cessary tendency to run down. And you are not to 
say, that the need of a miracle to answer the purposes 
of the Author of nature implies some imperfection in 
the machinery of nature. The idea of machinery is 
a pure assumption. Des Cartes might as well have 
argued from those vortices, or whirlpools of ether, by 
which he supposed the heavenly bodies were moved, 
as we may argue from the notion of any other mech- 
anism. Once more ; all ideas of miraculous interfe- 
rence, as if it were derogatory to the Infinite Being, 
all presumptions on this point, drawn from the infinity 
of the universe, and the comparative insignificance of 
the earth and of man, are to be laid out of the ques- 
tion as entirely unphilosophical. 

With these reasonable disclamations then, we come 
to the simple and unprejudiced experience of facts. 
We see an order in nature, not mechanical, not neces- 
sary, but appointed. Can that order be changed? 
Doubtless it can. To assert the impossibility of 
change, is to go far beyond our province. The power 
that ordained the succession of events, can modify 
them. Has the order of nature been in any instance 
interrupted? That is the great question. I am not 
now to discuss it. I have only to ask, if that question 
may not be fairly entertained; if it is not open to 
argument ; if witnesses may not be called to testify ; 
and if we are not bound to listen to them without 
setting up any bar of presumption against their 
testimony. Certainly, if there is no intrinsic and ascer- 
tained impossibility in the events alleged to have 
taken place, we are bound to listen. 

But in what spirit shall we listen? With an 
extreme and almost insurmountable prejudice against 



248 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



miracles ? This is the assumption of unbelief. And 
on what is this assumption founded ? "On experience," 
is the answer. And what now is this boasted experi- 
ence? Is human experience the measure of divine 
power? Can a limited experience set bounds to possi- 
bility ? What is this life's experience, but a childhood 
amidst the ages of eternity? Suppose that we were 
hereafter to be placed, for the correction of some mental 
errors, in a scene of being where all should be miracle, 
all change; where every thing should reveal the 
immediate action of the Almighty Power. Where 
would be experience then? Or, to illustrate the same 
point, let us revert to the truly philosophical, the 
primitive, experience. Suppose that the first man had 
been created before the heavens were spread forth, or' 
the earth hung in the empty space, and that he had 
beheld those awful effects of Omnipotence. Would he, 
at the close of the first day of his existence, find it 
difficult to believe in miracles? Why then, should the 
experience of forty years, amidst regular successions 
of events, make him forget that miracles might again 
be a part of the course of nature? The experience 
that makes a man feel as if there could be no more 
miracles, seems to me narrow, and if I may say so, 
provincial; like that which makes an ignorant and 
home-bred rustic feel as if every thing in the great 
world must be just like what he had seen in his 
father's house, and fills him with astonishment, 
amounting to incredulity, at every thing new and 
extraordinary. 

What is the spirit of a real and studious philosophy, 
in cases which, so far as the facts are considered, are 
precisely analagous to miracles. An extraordinary, 
unheard of, and before unknown fact is presented in 
nature. Water, for instance, is produced by the intense 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 249 

combustion of two invisible gases. There are many 
men in the world who would say on the first proposi- 
tion of such a marvel, that they would not believe it. 
But does the philosopher say so ? Or does he wait, 
before he will believe, till he can resolve that fact into 
some order of nature ? By no means. The fact has 
been submitted to the test of experiment, and he is 
satisfied. And he believes it, let me add, not because 
it belongs to any order of things, but because it has 
been proved by satisfactory experiments. The King 
of Siam would not believe, that the liquid and flowing 
water could become a solid body under his feet. He 
took the very ground of the skeptic about miracles. 
He had never seen water frozen ; nobod)^ in his country 
had ever seen it ; and he would not believe it. Was 
that the ground of philosophy, or of prejudice ? A man 
says, that he cannot and will not believe in miracles. 
And yet every object in the universe around him, had 
its origin in a miracle. And suppose that it were 
given us again to witness such displa) r s of power. 
Suppose that another sun were created and placed 
in the heavens before our very eyes. Should we not 
believe the fact till we perceived that it was produced 
by some preexisting, world-making machinery of 
causes ? And yet I verily believe that that wonderful 
creation would not be more extraordinary, than to the 
discriminating moral eye is that great Light which 
burst upon the darkness of the world, eighteen centu- 
ries ago ! 

1^ then, the strong and almost insuperable presump- 
tion against the doctrine of miracles, which many 
feel, is not justified by a strict philosophy, let us now 
proceed a step farther. 

I am willing to concede something to this presump- 
tion ; I wish to give it all the weight that it deserves ; 



250 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



but I do not conceive that it possesses the broadest 
characters of philosophy. It appears to me instinctive 
rather than rational, hasty rather than deliberate, and 
narrow rather than comprehensive. And I believe 
that the rational, deliberate, and comprehensive view 
of things is more than sufficient fairly to rebut the nar- 
row, the hasty, and the instinctive view. 

It is said, that nature and experience are against 
miracles. That a part of nature and experience is so, 
I admit ; but I desire special attention to the remark 
that it is only a part. That the whole is so, I deny. 
Nay, I would invite your still more particular atten- 
tion to the observation, that the parts of nature and 
experience which are against miracles are the lowest 
and humblest. It is the mechanical order of nature 
which is opposed to miracles, and not its grand, com- 
prehensive meaning and principle. And it is a less 
cultivated experience which, feeling less the need of 
those truths that revelation discloses, is less disposed 
to admit of such a revelation, than the mind in its 
highest development. 

Let us, then, go into the broad field of nature and 
experience, into that very field, where skepticism has 
found its stronghold, and see what it teaches us. 

The particular course of things in nature is order ; 
the great principle is beneficence ; the adaptation of 
all things to the happiness of sensitive beings, the sup- 
ply of all wants, the relief of all sufferings. Nay, 
order itself has its chief value in its uses ; it is de- 
signed for the improvement of rational beings ; and it 
has been well argued, on a former occasion in this 
place, that, " if the great purposes of the universe can 
best be accomplished by departing from its established 
laws, those laws will undoubtedly be suspended, and, 
though broken in the letter, they will be observed in 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 251 

the spirit f and hence that " miracles, instead of war- 
ring against nature, would concur with it."* 

But let us cast a glance, first, not at human experi- 
ence, but at the condition of irrational natures. The 
most striking feature in that condition is the adapta- 
tion of means to beneficent ends ; of supplies to wants, 
of reliefs to unavoidable sufferings. Among all the 
tribes of animate life, there is not a creature so small, 
but contains within it a world of wonders ; and won- 
ders not of skill onty, but of beneficence. The ana- 
tomy of a fly, the instinct of a spider, the economy of 
a hive of bees, the structure of an ant-hill, are each of 
them subjects which fill many ample pages in the 
books of philosophy ; and fill them constructively with 
this one theme, — the goodness of the Creator, his gra- 
cious regard to the humblest thing that lives. If you 
rise higher in the scale of the creation, you find every- 
where, multiplying and crowding upon you, the proofs 
of unspeakable goodness. In heaven, on earth, and 
abroad upon all the pathless seas, are innumerable crea- 
tures, possessing frames filled with the most exquisite 
adaptations of part to part, guided by kindly instincts, 
supplied with bountiful provisions, arrayed, as Solomon 
in all his glory was not arrayed, and provided with 
habitations, more perfect for the purposes, than pal- 
aces of cedar or marble. 

To illustrate the argument which I design to draw 
from this appeal to nature, let me make a supposition 
entirely at variance with the facts to which we have 
now adverted. Suppose, then, that you had found 
any one tribe of the animal creation unprovided for. 
Suppose, that it had no appropriate food, or that it had 
no instinct to guide it to that food ; that it knew not 
where to seek its sustenance, whether in the water, 

* Channing's Dudleian Lecture. 



252 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

or the air, or the earth. If we had seen any species 
of beings in this situation ; if, for example, every sum- 
mer should bring into existence a certain kind of 
bird, for which there was no suitable provision, or no 
guiding instinct ; if we should see them flying about 
us, as if uncertain, destitute, and suffering, with wild 
screams testifying their anxiety and distress, appa- 
rently ignorant whether the night or the day was ap- 
pointed for them, now rising in the air, now plunging 
into the water, and then madly dashing against the 
earth ; if, I say, we had thus seen them holding a 
precarious and painful existence for a few weeks, and 
then miserably perishing ; we should feel as if such 
a phenomenon was most extraordinary and astonish- 
ing ; at war with the whole system of nature, and 
with all the proofs of divine benevolence. We do un- 
hesitatingly pronounce the facts embraced in such a 
supposition impossible. If we were to study nature 
for ever, we should never expect to meet with any 
thing like this. 

Now I apply this to the case of human nature. 
And I desire you to suspend your judgment of the 
comparison for one moment till I can fully lay it before 
you. Consider, in the first place, the dignity of the 
being, to illustrate whose condition this comparison is 
brought. Consider all the difference between animal 
sense, and a being so "infinite in faculties" as man. 
Suppose, in the next place, that this being, according 
to an unquestionable law of his nature, should improve 
his faculties to the highest degree conceivable, without 
the knowledge of a future life. And finally, suppose 
him, with all the craving wants, the soaring aspira- 
tions, and the exquisite, varied and multiplied sorrows 
of refined thought and feeling, to stand upon the 
earth, as it rolled in silence through the mighty void 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 253 



of heaven, — with death all around him, and without 
one voice from beyond the realms of visible life to 
assure him that he should live hereafter, — and then 
say, whether this would not be a condition more 
mournful, more disastrous, more at war with the order 
of divine beneficence, than any catastrophe that ever 
could befall animal natures. 

If any one distrusts this comparison, I must beg 
leave to doubt whether he fairly comprehends it. The 
truth is, that all the world has held to revelations in 
one form or another. By communications direct or 
traditional, by the voice of augurs or of prophets, by 
open miracle or inward light, all mankind have deemed 
themselves to have special guidance from above. 

It is an important inference from this fact, that no 
one can very well estimate the case of supposed utter 
destitution ; and, therefore, that it is extremely difficult 
for any individual to feel the whole and legitimate 
force of this argument. Every man has been trained 
up from childhood by a system of communications ; 
and now, upon the very strength of these communica- 
tions, or of the convictions they have inevitably 
inspired, he deems himself able to stand without them. 
But difficult as the task is made by the unfair position 
of the objector, I shall offer two or three observations, 
in close, tending to show the need, and therefore the 
likelihood, instead of the often alleged improbability, 
of an extraordinary revelation. 

Leaving other communications out of the account, 
then, we, as Christians, say that about eighteen cen- 
turies ago, at a period at once of unprecedented intel- 
lectual development and equally prevailing skepticism, 
there appeared an extraordinary teacher from heaven. 
I am not now to offer any of the arguments for his 
divine mission, that seem to me so abundant and 
22 



254 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 



overwhelming ; but I think I am fully entitled by the 
circumstances to say, that there ought to be no pre- 
sumption against it. For it is undeniable, that, amidst 
all the lights of Grecian and Roman civilization, the 
most important truths, — the unity and paternity of 
God, and the immortality of man, — were obscured ; 
and it is but a reasonable inference, that without a 
revelation, they would have been overshadowed with 
doubt till now. And even the belief that prevailed in 
the minds of a few philosophers, seems to me singu- 
larly to have wanted vitality. There is more reason- 
ing than conviction apparent in their discourses ; and 
certainly their faith had but little influence on their 
lives. Cicero, we know, and others, amidst all their 
hopes, had strong doubts. And I maintain, not only 
from these examples, but from the experience of every 
powerful mind since, that no reasonings can relieve 
that great question from painful, from distressing 
uncertainty. 

My argument, then, is from human experience, and 
from cultivated human experience. It is easy to see, 
that a rude age might less need the relief which a 
revelation on this point would give ; and for this rea- 
son, as I hold, to rude ages it was not given. My 
argument, then, is from cultivated human experience. 
And this is the form into which it resolves itself. God 
is the author of life, and the former of the mind. It is 
fair to presume, that he, who has provided for the 
wants of the humblest animal life, would not doom 
the noblest creature he has made on earth, to over- 
whelming despondency and misery. Now I say, that, 
without a revelation, this result is inevitable. I main- 
tain, that no scheme of a virtuous, improving and 
happy life can be made out, which leaves the doctrines 



THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 255 

of God's paternal and forgiving mercy, and of human 
immortality, in great and serious doubt. 

My friends, I bring home the case to myself, and to 
you. I know what it is to doubt, and I say that no 
man should judge of the effect of that doubt, till he 
knows by experience what it is ; till, crushed by its 
weight, he has laid himself down to his nightly rest, 
too miserable and desperate to care whether lie ever 
raised his head from that pillow of repose and oblivion ; 
till every morning has waked him to sadness and des- 
pondency darker than the gloomiest night that ever 
clouded the path of earthly sorrow. It is not calamity, 
it is not worldly disappointment, it is not affliction, it 
is not grief, that I speak of ; nor is it any of these that 
gives the greatest intensity to this doubt ; it is a devel- 
opment of our own nature ; it is the soul's own strug- 
gling with the mighty powers with which it is made 
to grapple ; it is the longed-for and almost felt immor- 
tality, struck from our eager grasp ; the light gone 
out ; the heaven of our hope all overshadowed and 
dark. Yes, it is the consciousness of infinite desires 
and capacities, all blighted and broken down ; it is the 
aspiring which suns and stars cannot bound, all shrunk 
and buried in a coffin and a grave ! In short, it is the 
proper and legitimate state of a mind following the 
premises of the case to their just result; and not that 
worldly condition of the mind, which is no more fit to 
judge of this subject than childhood is to judge of the 
interests of an empire. And now I say, Is it hard to 
believe that God would interpose for humanity, so cir- 
cumstanced ? Is it incredible that he should send a 
voice into that deep and dark struggle for spiritual life 
and hope ? 

I appeal to you, my brethren. I appeal to the youth 
who are before me. It is thought that this age is wit- 



256 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

nessing- an unusual development of infidel principles. 
One whole nation, indeed, has fallen a victim to them. 
And what is new and striking-, it is said, has a kind of 
fascination for youth. But I hold that this is an age, 
too, which is witnessing an extraordinary development 
of sensibility in the young. This arises from an ear- 
lier, I had almost said, a premature education ; from 
an exciting literature ; and from the character of enter- 
prise and expectation which now T invests all the inter- 
ests and prospects of society. But I ask, Is this an 
age when you can safely break the great bond of faith 
and hope? If yours were a dull and sluggish youth, 
or a youth amidst rude and barbarous times, it might 
not yield me the argument which I now seek. But I 
know that in this age, ay, and in this assembly, there 
is many a youthful heart, whose daily experience is 
the strongest possible proof of the need, and therefore 
of the likelihood, of a divinely sanctioned religion. 
Ay, I know, and many a sorroAving parent in this land 
knows, that the period of youth cannot be safely passed 
without it. Those thronging passions, those swaying 
sympathies of social life, the deeper musings of solitary 
hours, the imaginations, the affections, the thoughts, 
unuttered and unutterable, — all the sweeping currents 
that bear the youthful heart it scarcely knows whither, 
■ — all show that it cannot be thrown, without infinite 
peril, to drift upon a sea of doubt. 

Humanity, in fine, and especially in its growing cul- 
tivation, is too hard a lot, it appears to me, if God has 
not opened for it the fountains of revelation. Without 
that great disclosure from above, human nature stands, 
in my contemplation of it, as an anomaly amidst the 
whole creation. The noblest existence on earth is not 
provided with a resource even so poor as instinct. On 
the heart that is made to bear the weight of infinite 



THE ARGl'MENT FROM MIRACLES. 



257 



interests, sinks the crushing* burthen of doubt and 
despondency, of fear and sorrow, of pain and death, 
without resource, or relief, or comfort, or hope. The 
cry of the young ravens, the buzzing of insect life in 
every hedge, is heard ; but the call that comes up from 
the deep and dark conflict of the overshadowed soul, 
dies upon the vacant air ; and there is no ear to hear, 
nor eye to pity. Oh ! were it so, what could sustain 
the human heart, sinking under the burthen of its 
noblest aspirations ? " The still, sad music of human- 
ity," sounding on through all time, would lose every 
soothing tone, and would become a wail, in which the 
heart of the world w T ould die ! 

And why must any man think that the world is left 
to that darkness and misery 1 Because he cannot 
believe that a communication has been made from 
heaven in the only conceivable way in which it can 
be made and proved ; by miracles. For I affirm, that 
if that great preliminary difficulty were over, all diffi- 
culties would vanish before the stupendous proofs of a 
revelation. He that thinks, then, that the world is left 
to nature's darkness, thinks thus, I repeat, because he 
cannot believe in miracles ; because he cannot admit 
that the order of nature, which is itself not an end, but 
a means to an end, may be interrupted for the greatest 
of all ends ; because he will not admit, that the Infinite 
Power is superior to the laws itself has made ; because 
he will not allow, in his philosophy, that liberty to the 
Infinite Parent, in changing and adapting his provi- 
sions to the wants of his children, that he allows to 
every earthly parent. Is this the childlike and trust- 
ful, the deep-searching and discerning, the expansive 
and unprejudiced spirit of true philosophy, or is it the 
shallow and skeptical spirit of bondage to the mere 
22* 



258 THE ARGUMENT FROM MIRACLES. 

outward forms and processes of things, regardless of 
their higher meanings and ends? 

Here for the present I leave the subject. I have not 
undertaken in this discourse to prove the truth of 
Christianity ; but, if I have succeeded in removing the 
great obstacle, in opening the door to the argument ; 
the conclusion, I think, will easily follow. I have not 
undertaken to prove that there have been miracles ; 
but I do hold myself entitled to say, as the close and 
inference of this discourse, that I should wonder if there 
had not been miracles. The philosophical presump- 
tion is for, rather than against them. Nature is for, 
more than it is against them ; its mechanical order 
only being against them, while its whole spirit is in 
their favour. Man's necessity, God's mercy, is for 
them ; and against them is — what ? What is against 
all legitimate wisdom and conviction ? Why, only a 
doubt, — which is mostly vague and irresponsible, — ■ 
which, because it is a doubt, holds itself scarcely bound 
to give a reason ; and which, though it is a doubt, sits 
immovable, as if it held the very seat of knowledge, 
and throne of reason. To allow it to sit there undis- 
turbed, is to yield more deference to a shadow than to 
the very substance of reason and truth. 



THE SCRIPTURE 

CONSIDERED AS THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 



It has become very important, as it seems to us, 
that the advocates of a divine revelation should care- 
fully and accurately define the ground which they 
undertake to defend. In logical order, this task is 
preliminary to the defence itself. Our position is to 
be taken before it is to be maintained. What is it to 
believe in a revelation ? Or, in other words, what is 
the question between the believer, and the unbeliever? 
This we shall undertake to define, in the first place, 
and then shall offer some general remarks on belief 
and unbelief. 

There are two methods by which mankind may 
arrive at the knowledge of truth. The one, is by 
observation, by reflection, by reasoning, by the natural 
exercise of the human faculties. The other is, by a 
supernatural communication from Heaven ; and this 
different from, and superior to, reasoning, observation, 
intuition, impulse, and every known operation of the 
human mind. Now we contend that it is in a com- 
munication of this nature that our scriptures originated. 

But let us consider more particularly the vehicle of 
this communication — the Scriptures. It is on this 
point that believers differ somewhat among themselves. 
And it is from rash positions on this subject, or from 
marking too negligently and too broadly the lines of 
defence, that the advocates of a revelation expose them- 



260 



THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



selves to the strongest attacks of infidelity. The 
Scriptures, then, it might seem needless to say, are not 
the actual communication made to the minds that were 
inspired from Above ; but they are a ' declaration of 
those things which were most surely believed among 
them.'* They are not the actual word of God, but 
they are a ' record of the word of God'.t They are of 
the nature of a testimony. 'We speak that we do 
know, and testify that we have seen.'} This distinc- 
tion, obvious as it may seem, is not without its impor- 
tance ; and it unhappily derives some consequence 
from the earnestness with which it is opposed. To 
say so simple a thing as that the Bible is not the 
original, the very revelation made to the prophets and 
apostles, but the record of that revelation, is an excess 
of temerity thought to be worthy of the most heinous 
charges. 

But the distinction is intrinsically important. It is 
important to make the discrimination, and to say, 
that the communication of light and truth was one 
thing, and the record of that communication another. 
The communication was divine ; the record was hu- 
man. It was, strictly speaking and every way, a 
human act. The manner, the style, the phraseology, 
the choice of words, the order of thought, the selec- 
tion of figures, comparisons, arguments, to enforce the 
communication, was altogether a human work. It 
was as purely human, as peculiarly individual in the 
case of every witness, as his accent, attitude, or ges- 
ture, when delivering his message. And, indeed, we 
might as well demand that Paul's gesture or intona- 
tion on Mars' Hill, should be faultless, as to demand 
that the style of his letter to the Galatians should be 
faultless ; for, in truth, the action and the accent were 
* Luke i. V f Rev. i. 2. { John iii, 1L 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 261 

as truly a part of the communication, as the words 
employed to set it forth. We are about to argue for 
this general position, and in doing so we shall more 
clearly define and guard it ; but we wished to state it 
with some precision in the outset. If there ever were 
productions which showed the fire and fervent work- 
ings of human thought and feeling, they are our 
Scriptures. We know not how it is possible for any 
one candidly to read, or thoroughly to study them, 
without coming to this conclusion. And we say, 
therefore, that the question between the believer and 
the unbeliever is, not whether the Avoids of this com- 
munication are grammatically the best words, not 
whether the illustrations are rhetorically the best il- 
lustrations, not whether the arguments are logically 
the best arguments ; but the question is, whether 
there is any communication at all. Let any man 
admit this, let him admit it in any shape, and though 
there may be difficulties and disputes, we shall find no 
difficulty in settling beyond all dispute, some truths 
from the Scriptures ; and truths, too, of dearer con- 
cern to us than all the visible interests of this world. 

But is this view of the Bible a right and safe one ? 
To this question let us now proceed. 

1. Let us, as the first step, proceed to inquire of the 
Scriptures themselves. We say, then, that what has 
now been stated, is the natural, and we might say, 
the unavoidable impression which a reader would 
take from the perusal of the Scriptures. The vehicle 
of revelation is language. The things we have to 
deal with are words. They are not divine symbols 
of thought ; they are not pure essences of ideas ; they 
are words. The vehicle, we say, is language. We 
shall soon undertake to show, that language is, from 
its very nature, an imperfect instrument of communi- 



262 



THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



cation. But, for the present, we only say, that the 
language of revelation is the natural language of the 
period to which, and of the men to whom we refer it. 
The idioms of speech, the peculiarities of style, the 
connections and dependences of thought and reason- 
ing, the bursts of feeling, all seem to us as natural in 
the Bible as they are in any other book. We see 
ideas, indeed, that we ascribe to inspiration ; but we 
see no evidence, we can discern no appearance of any 
supernatural influence exerted upon the style, either 
to make it perfect, or to prevent it from being imper- 
fect. Let us compare the Scriptures with other wri- 
tings. If we open almost any book, especially any 
book written in a fervent and popular style, we can 
perceive, on an accurate analysis, that some things 
were hastily written, some things negligently, some 
things not in the exact logical order of thought ; that 
some things are beautiful in style, and others coarse 
and inelegant ; that some things are clear, and others 
obscure or " hard to be understood." And do we not 
find a.U these things in the Scriptures ? What is a 
sound and rational criticism but a discernment of 
just such things as these ? What is peculiarity of 
style but something proceeding from the particular 
mind of the writer ; but something, therefore, par- 
taking, not of divine ideas, but of human conceptions? 
And who has more of this peculiarity of style than 
John, or Paul? And now suppose that Paul had 
written a letter to any one of his friends on religion, 
and had written not in his apostolical character; that 
he had said, as he sometimes did sa)^, this is ' not from 
the Lord ?' Can any rational man doubt, whether, 
that letter would have exhibited the same style as his 
recorded epistles? 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 263 



If such, then, be the natural impression arising from 
the perusal of the Scriptures, we are so to receive them, 
unless they themselves direct us otherwise. Do they 
direct us otherwise ? Do they anywhere tell us that 
the manner of writing, the style, the words, came from 
immediate divine suggestion, or were subject to mira- 
culous superintendence ? To us it is clear that the 
passages usually adduced in support of these views 
of inspiration, fall entirely short of the positions they 
are brought to establish. ' All Scripture is given by 
inspiration of God ;' and 'holy men spake as they were 
moved by the Holy Ghost ;'— these are the passages. 
Now the question is, whether these declarations refer 
to the matter of revelation, or to the style ; to the sub- 
stance of the communication, or to the form ; to the thing 
testified, given, spoken, or to the manner of speaking, 
imparting, testifying. We say, to the matter, the sub- 
stance, the thing testified. Others insist, that reference 
is had to the style, the form, the manner, also. There 
is nothing in the words to decide between us, and 
we must have resort, therefore, to general consider- 
ations. We must go to the general aspect and 
obvious character of the sacred writings. And on this 
subject we have a statement to make, which is worthy 
of special observation. So strong is the aspect of natu- 
ralness upon the whole face of the Scriptures, so 
marked are the peculiarities of individual thought, 
manner and style, that many of the most learned and 
profound Orthodox scholars have given up the doctrine 
of immediate suggestion, and retain only that of a gen- 
eral superintendence. But we surely may remind them, 
that the Scriptures themselves furnish as little warrant 
for the doctrine of superintendence as for that of sug- 
gestion. If the passages before quoted prove anything 
with regard to style, they prove immediate suggestion. 



284 THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



If they prove nothing on this point, then the Bible does 
not anywhere ; for they are the strongest in the Bible. 

The doctrine of superintendence, undoubtedly, comes 
not from the Scriptures, but from what is thought to 
be the exigency of the case. It is introduced to save 
the sacred writings from the charge of possible error ; 
a charge which we shall by and by undertake to show, 
does not, in anything material, attach to them, on 
what we think to be a more rational and unincumbered 
theory. We see no need of supposing the apostles, for 
instance, to have spoken and written under any other 
influence than that of truth and goodness ; truth super- 
n a tu rally communicated to them, but not by them 
supernaturally taught. The teaching, in short, is full 
of nature and truth. And we should, with as much 
reason, demand that Paul's speech should have been 
freed from that impediment or infirmity, which made 
some among the Corinthians declare it to be " contemp- 
tible,*' as that his style should be freed from those 
obscurities, those imperfections, in other words, which 
made Peter say that it is "hard to be understood." And 
we might as well say, that when his accent or gesture 
was liable to be wrong, there was a divine superinten- 
dence or interference to put it right, as to say this with 
regard to his written expressions, his figures and 
illustrations, his style and mode of communication. 

2. That there was no supernatural perfection, or 
accuracy > or infallibility, in the Scriptural style or mode 
of communication, we think any one may be convinc- 
ed by considering, in the next place, the very nature of 
language. 

Human language is essentially and unavoidably an 
imperfect mode of communication. It is sufficiently 
correct ; but the idea of absolute perfection or infallibil- 
ity, if it were rightly and rigidly considered, does not 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 265 

and cannot belong- to it. We are not merely saying, 
now, that the style of our Christian teachers is not 
perfect, according to the laws of rhetoric ; that it is 
not perfect Greek. That is admitted on all hands. 
But we say that it is not perfect, because it cannot be 
perfect, as an instrument of thought. Perfection and 
imperfection in this matter are words of comparison. 
Absolutely, they do not apply to language. Excellence, 
or, if any one pleases to call it so, perfection in style, 
is something relative. It is relative, for instance, to 
the age and country in which it is delivered. What 
is perfect for one people and period, is not perfect for 
another. It would happen, then, that even if the 
sacred style had possessed some unintelligible perfec- 
tion for its own age, it would have lost it for the next, 
and for every succeeding age. Is it not felt by every 
judicious commentator, that the ancient phraseology 
in which the Scriptures are clothed, throws great diffi- 
culties in the way of understanding them ? Are not 
these difficulties such, that the mass of mankind cannot, 
of themselves, understand certain passages, and must 
receive the explanation of them on trust ? To what 
purpose is it, then, to argue for the infallibility of the 
sacred style ? Language is also relative to the mind, 
the mind absolutely considered. A perfect or infallible 
language must be that which conveys perfect or infal- 
lible thoughts to the mind. But now when we talk 
about perfect or infallible thoughts, are we not very 
much beyond our depth ? Can any instrument convey 
to us thoughts which are perfect, which are capable of 
being no more clear or true, which are never to be 
changed in the slightest degree, in all the coming aRol 
bright ening dispensations of our being ? To us, it seems 
as if there were great presumption in the prevailing lan- 
guage about truth and error. As if any sect or any set 
23 



266 THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



of men, called Christians, or called by any other name ; 
as if any human being held the absolute, the abstractly 
pure, and unchangeable truth ! As if any creed or 
language, or human thought could escape every taint 
of error ; as if it could put off all limitation, obscurity, 
peculiarity and everything that marks it as belonging 
to a finite and frail nature ! " To err is human." It 
is a part of our dispensation to find our way to truth 
through error. The perfect is wrought out from the 
imperfect. We see this in children ; and in this respect, 
we are all but children. 

The thought came pure from the All-revealing Mind ; 
but when it entered the mind of a prophet or apostle, 
it became a human conception. It could be nothing 
else, unless that mind, by being inspired, became super- 
human. The inspired truth became the subject of 
human perception, feeling, and imagination ; and when 
it was communicated to the world, it was clothed with 
human language ; and that perception, feeling, imagi- 
nation, lent its aid to this communication, as truly as 
to any writings that ever were penned. It is this, next 
to the authority of the Scriptures, it is this naturalness, 
simplicity, pathos, and earnestness of manner, that give 
them such life and power. 

The case, then, stands thus. It has pleased God to 
adopt human language as the instrument of his com- 
munications to men ; an instrument sufficiently correct, 
though not absolutely perfect. We might as reason- 
ably demand that the men should be faultless, as that 
the style should be faultless. Neither were so. And 
as the faults and mistakes of the men, do not invalidate 
the sufficiency of their main testimony, still less would 
any faults or inaccuracies of their style, figures, illus- 
trations, or arguments, if proved to exist, set aside the 
great, interesting, and, among Christians, the unques- 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 267 



tioned matters of revelation, which they have laid 
before us. 

3. A word, now, in the third place, on the unavoid- 
able or actual concessions, upon this subject, among 
all intelligent and sober Christians. Let us see if they 
do not lead us to the same result. It must be admitted 
that the inspired penmen usually wrote in conformity 
with the philosophy of their respective ages, in confor- 
mity, therefore, with some portions of natural and 
metaphysical philosophy that are false. The common 
remark on this subject, is, that they did not profess to 
give instructions on astronomy, demonology, or meta- 
physics, but on religion. In briefly passing this point, 
we should like to ask those who so zealously insist that 
the phrase, " All Scripture is given by inspiration of 
God," refers to every word, or to every idea in the Bible, 
what they are to do with the Mosaic theory of the solar 
system, and of the starry heavens ? But to proceed 
with the concessions to which we have referred. It 
cannot be denied that there are some slight discrepances 
in the evangelical narratives. And, indeed, the com- 
mon and the very just answer to this allegation in our 
books of evidences, is, that these differences, so far from 
weakening the testimony, strengthen it, by showing 
that there was no collusion among the witnesses. 
Once more, it is common now to admit, that the Bible 
is to be interpreted as other books are. But we do not 
see how it is possible to enter thoroughly into the spirit 
of this rule, unless the composition of the Bible is looked 
upon as a human work — a work produced by the natu- 
ral operation of human thought and feeling. If there 
was frequent and supernatural interference with the 
writer's natural mode of expressing himself, such a 
fact, it seems to us, would seriously disturb the appli- 
cation of the rule laid down, and would, in fact, warrant 



268 THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



many of those superstitious and irrational views of the 
Scriptures, which are fatal to just criticism and sound 
scholarship. 

If, then, it be admitted that there are among our 
sacred books, mistakes in philosophy, and discrepances, 
however slight, in statements of facts, and if the Bible is 
subject to the ordinary rules of criticism on language, 
the inference seems unavoidable, that these writings, 
so far as their composition is concerned, are to be 
regarded as possessing a properly and purely human 
character. 

4. But we come now to the great difficulty and 
objection. It is said that if these views are correct, 
the Bible is a fallible book, and unworthy of reliance. 
We maintain, therefore, in the fourth place, that the 
infallibility which many Christians contend for, and 
upon the defence of which unbelievers are willing 
enough to put them, is, in our apprehension, unneces- 
sary to the validity and sufficiency of the communica- 
tion. 

What is a revelation ? It is simply the communi- 
cation of certain truths to mankind ; truths, indeed, 
which they could not otherwise have fully understood 
or satisfactorily determined ; but truths nevertheless 
as easy to be communicated as any other. Why then 
is there any more need of supernatural assistance in 
this case, than in any other ? We are constantly speak- 
ing to one another without any fear of being misunder- 
stood. We are constantly reading books without any 
of this distrust ; and books, too, written by men in 
every sense fallible, which the Scripture writers, in 
regard to the revelation made to them, are not. Nay, 
we are reading books of abstruse philosophy, in the full 
confidence that we understand the general doctrines 
laid down. But the matters of revelation are not 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 



269 



abstruse. They are designed to be understood by the 
mass of mankind. They are designed, like the light, 
to shine upon man's daily path. What if a man should 
say he cannot trust the light of the sun, and will not 
walk by it, because it comes through so earthly and 
fallible a medium as the atmosphere ? The air, cer- 
tainly, is an imperfect medium of light. There are 
motes and mists and clouds in it. Yet we have not 
the least doubt, that we see the sun, and the path that 
w r e walk in, and the objects around us. It does not 
destroy the nature of light that it comes to us through 
the dense and variable atmosphere ; and it does not 
destroy the nature of truth that it comes to us through 
the medium of human language. 

But let us descend to particulars. What particular 
truth, then, that either does belong to revelation, or 
has been conceived to belong to it, requires an infallible 
style, or a supernatural influence for its communication ? 
Not the Messiahship of Jesus, and his living, teaching, 
suffering, and dying to save us from sin and misery ; 
not the assurance of God's paternal love and mercy and 
care for us ; not the simple but solemn and most glorious 
doctrine of a future life ; not precept, not promise, not 
warning, nor encouragement, nor offered grace and aid. 
But suppose it be contended that more belongs to the 
revelation ; " fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge abso- 
lute." Suppose it be conceded, that the matter of any 
or every creed that Christians have made, belongs to it. 
Yet their makers, we presume, will not maintain that 
any inspiration or supernatural guidance is necessary 
to set forth these matters. They surely cannot feel 
any particular distrust about the powers of language. 
They who have made creeds on purpose to remedy 
the imperfections, or clear up the obscurities, or settle 
the uncertainties of the Scriptural communication, 
23* 



270 



THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



they surely are not the persons we have to contend 
with in this argument. 

" But ah !" it is said, " this sort of reasoning leads to 
infidelity." " Saves us from infidelity," the objector 
might more truly say. This, at least, is the purpose 
of our reasonings ; and we believe it is their tendency. 
Unbelievers have derived more plausible and just objec- 
tions from the prevailing theological assumptions with 
regard to our sacred books, than from any other quarter. 
The attacks which are usually made upon the philo- 
sophy of Moses, the imprecations of David, the differ- 
ences among the apostles, the obscurities of Paul, and 
upon instances of puerility, coarseness, and indelicacy 
in style, or inappositeness in illustration, are all of this 
nature. If it were considered that the successive com- 
munications which God has made to the world, have 
borne upon them the signs and marks of their succes- 
sive ages ; if it were considered, that the light, in its 
visitations to the earth, has struggled through the 
medium of human imperfection, through mists of pre- 
judice, and clouds, often indeed, gorgeous clouds of 
imagination ; many difficulties and objections of this 
sort would be removed. 

" But how shall we know what is true and what is 
false ; what belonged to the age, and what to the light ?" 
This difficulty is more specious than real. When ap- 
plied in detail to the Scriptures, it will be found to amount 
to very little. There can be no doubt, for instance, 
about matters of morality and duty. Indeed, it has 
often been admitted by our Christian apologists, that 
a revelation was not so much needed to tell us what 
is right, as to give sanctions for it. Then, again, with 
regard to these sanctions, with regard to the future 
good and evil, we believe no one has ever pretended to 
deny them, or ever will, on the ground that the sacred 



THE 



RECORD 



OF A REVELATION. 



271 



writers may have been mistaken. Very few, indeed, 
do deny them. The great body of Universalists, as 
we are informed, now believe in a future retribution. 
And so, as to all the absolute doctrines of Scripture, 
there is no dispute about the authority on which they 
rest. The only question is, whether some of the illus- 
trations are judicious, belonging as they do to the 
school of Jewish allegory ; and whether one or two of 
the arguments of Paul are logical. But this question, 
surely, does not touch matters that fairly belong to the 
very different department of immediate inspiration. 
" Whoever appeals to reason," it has been very justly 
said, "waives, quoad hoc, his claim to inspiration." 
When an inspired teacher says to us, " This doctrine 
is true ;" that is one thing ; we receive the declaration 
on his simple authority. But when he says, " I can 
prove this to you by a series of arguments ;" that is 
another thing. When he says, " this is true, because' 1 
— the utterance of that word arouses our reason. It 
is not implicit faith that is then demanded, but an 
attentive consideration of the force of arguments. 
The thing argued demands faith ; but the argument, 
from its very nature, appeals to reason ; and it is the 
very office of reason to judge whether the argument is 
sound and sufficient. And so when a sacred writer 
says, " This doctrine is true, and it is like such a thing, 
or it may be so illustrated," he appeals to our judgment 
and taste, and Ave may, without in the least question- 
ing the thing asserted, inquire into the fitness, force, 
and elegance of the illustration, allegory, or figure, by 
which it is set forth. 

5. If now any one shall say that this amounts to a 
rejection of Christianity ; if for any purpose, fair or 
unfair, if with any intention, honest or dishonest, he 
shall take it upon him to say, that in advocating these 



272 



THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 



views of inspiration we are no better than infidels in 
disguise, we cannot descend from the ground we occupy, 
we should not think it decent, with the known profes- 
sions which we make, to dispute the point with him. 
But we would remind him, that many of the brightest 
lights and noblest defenders of our religion fully main- 
tain the ground we have taken, to be Christian ground. 
Erasmus says, " It is not necessary that we should refer 
everything in the apostolic writings, immediately to 
supernatural aid. Christ suffered his disciples to err, 
even after the Holy Ghost was sent down, but not to 
the endangering of the faith." Grotius says, "It was 
not necessary that the matters narrated, should be 
dictated by the Holy Spirit ; it was enough that the 
writer had a good memory." " It is possible," says the 
learned Michaelis, " to doubt, and even to deny the 
inspiration of the New Testament, [he means inspira- 
tion not only of words, but of ideas, which we do not 
deny,] and yet to be fully persuaded of the truth of the 
Christian religion." Because, he argues, the facts being 
true, the testimony being one of ordinary validity, the 
religion must be true. On this observation of Michaelis, 
Bishop Marsh says, "Here our author makes a distinc- 
tion which is at present very generally received, between 
the divine origin of the Christian doctrine, and the divine 
origin of the writings in which that doctrine is recorded." 
" The wisdom contained in the Epistles of Paul," says 
Dr. Powell, late Master of St. John's College, Cam- 
bridge, " was given him from Above, and very probably 
the style and composition were his own." Dr. Paley 
makes the same distinction. " In reading the apostolic 
writings." he observes, " we distinguish between their 
doctrines and their arguments. Their doctrines came 
to them by revelation, properly so called ; yet in pro- 
pounding these doctrines, they were wont to illustrate, 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 273 



support, and enforce them by such analogies, argu- 
ments, and considerations as their own thoughts 
suggested." To the same purpose, Bishop Burnet. 
" When," says he, w divine writers argue upon any 
point, we are always bound to believe the conclusions 
that their reasonings end in, as parts of divine revela- 
tion ; but we are not bound to be able to make out, or 
even to assent to, all the premises made use of by them 
in their whole extent, unless it appear plainly that they 
affirm the premises as expressly as they do the conclu- 
sions proved by them." 

We have thus endeavoured to free the Scriptures 
from the burden of supporting a character, to which, 
as we believe, they nowhere lay any claim ; the char- 
acter, that is, of being, in every minute particular, per- 
fect and infallible compositions. The question, we now 
repeat, the momentous, the most interesting question 
between the believer and the unbeliever, is, whether 
God has made special and supernatural communica- 
tions of his wisdom and will to man, and whether the 
Bible contains those communications ? To us, it appears 
of great consequence, that the controversy should be 
disembarrassed from all extraneous difficulties, and 
should be reduced to this simple point. We repeat it, 
therefore, that when prophet or apostle presents himself 
to us as a messenger from God, we receive him in the 
simple and actual character, which has been marked 
out in this discussion. We consider him as saying, " I 
bear to you a message from God, to which I demand 
reverent heed; T give you, from divine inspiration, 
assurance of certain solemn and momentous truths ; 
but I do not say that every word and phrase I use, 
every simile and allegory and consideration by which 
I endeavour to explain or enforce my message, is divine, 
any more than that my countenance, speech, and action 



274 THE SCRIPTURES CONSIDERED AS 

are divine. The distinction is easy, and you ought not 
to misapprehend it. I speak to you from God ; but 
still I am a man. I speak after the manner of men, 
and for the peculiarities of my own manner, mind, 
country, and age, I do not presume to make the Uni- 
versal and Eternal Wisdom answerable." It is as 
when an earthly government sends its ambassador to 
a revolted province. The person invested with such 
a character has a twofold office to discharge. He has 
to lay down propositions, to make offers of forgiveness 
and reconciliation. These are from the government. 
He has to explain and urge these propositions and 
offers, by such language, illustrations, and arguments 
as the exigency requires. These are from himself. 
" It is thus," might the ambassador of God say, " it is 
thus that I address the children of men. My message 
is divine : my manner of delivering it, is human." 

And albeit it were a man that spoke thus to us, and 
however it might be that he spoke after the manner of 
men, yet if he could say with a voice of authority and 
assurance, " God is love ; like as a father pitieth his 
children, so God pities you ; he watches over you with 
a kind care ; he offers you forgiveness, and redemption 
from sin ; he opens to you the path of immortal life ;" 
if he could say these things, it would be a message 
which no words could adequately express. We should 
not say as the ancient skeptics did of Paul, " His 
bodily presence is weak, and his speech contemptible," 
although he should offend our taste, or our prejudices, 
in every phrase or figure by which he communicated 
the glorious truth. We should rather, with the Gala- 
tians, " receive him as an angel of God," and would 
kiss the hem of his garment, though the storms of 
every sea, and the dust and stripes of every city had 
rent and soiled it. There is nothing on earth of privi- 



THE RECORD OF A REVELATION. 275 

lege, distinction, or blessing, to compare with this simple 
faith. How many a stricken and sorrowing mind has 
been supported and soothed by that holy reliance! 
How many a bleeding heart has stanched its wounds 
in that healing fountain ! How many a spirit, wearied 
with the vanities, or worn down with the cares of this 
world, has sought that blessed refuge ! Nor is it trouble, 
or sorrow, or sickness, or bereavement only that has 
resorted here, and could go nowhere else ; but the 
boundless, the ever-craving soul, that sighs for an 
immortal life and an infinite good, how often has it 
exclaimed, "To whom shall I go? Thou hast the 
words of everlasting life !" To tell us that all which 
we believe is nothing, because it does not come up to 
the demands of some technical creed, or for any other 
reason, seems to us an absurdity and madness of asser- 
tion, at which, instead of inveighing, we can only 
wonder. 



ON THE 

NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION * 



The Professor of Theology in the Andover Semi- 
nary will excuse us, we trust, if we postpone his 
claims, for a while, to the less agreeable task of deal- 
ing with adversaries who are assailing us with weapons 
far different from those which he uses. With this re- 
mark to guard against even a momentary misappre- 
hension, we shall take up the matter of our thoughts 
ab orlgine. 

One of the evils of controversy, is, that men are 
driven by it into extremes of opinion. The sound and 
sober conclusions at which they arrive in calmer 
times, are made to give way to extravagant positions, 
injurious to the minds of those who hold them, inju- 
rious to the cause of Christianity, and favourable only 
to the attacks of its enemies. Inquiry is pursued un- 
der many undue biases indeed, but especially under 
the bias of a wish to put opponents and adversaries in 
the wrong. New tests, not only of practical religion, 
but of Christianity itself, are set up, in order to ex- 
clude unwelcome opinions from the ground of our com- 
mon faith, and the maintenance of such opinions from 
the credit of cherishing its virtues. 

It is of some importance, at such times, to look to 
the foundation of our faith, and to call to mind its 

* Review of " Lecture on the Inspiration of the Scriptures. By 
Leonard Woods, D. D. s Abbot Professor of Christian Theology in 
the Theological Seminary, Andover." 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 277 

most judicious and able defenders, to point to the old 
and firm landmarks and standards, in order to show 
that these periodical freshets of theological zeal, which 
bear away " the wood and the hay and the stubble," 
are not powerful enough to remove those landmarks 
and standards; — to show that they will spend their 
force and pass away, and leave all that is weighty and 
strong in our religion, just where it was before. We 
say it is of some importance. It is not of such impor- 
tance as if we were defending the very ground of our 
faith and hope. It is only pointing with our finger, 
and showing where the foundations are. He who feels 
his house to be strong and firm, cannot be disturbed if 
his neighbour, with misplaced zeal or benevolence, 
should tell him that it is all decaying and sinking be- 
neath him. He may listen to him with an incredulous 
smile, and may good-naturedly go around with him 
from pillar to pillar, and show him that what he ap- 
prehends to be fatal defect, is the mere rubbish that 
surrounds them. 

It might awaken a stronger feeling, if that neigh- 
bour should evidently take pleasure in the alleged un- 
soundness, if he should exult in the downfall he pre- 
dicted, and if he should pertinaciously insist upon the 
point, manifestly with the design to injure the property 
in the great market of public opinion. But still the 
feeling would be a calm one, and would be only 
strengthened into a firmer and more fearless confi- 
dence. He would perhaps put his hand upon the 
foundation or upon the pillar, and shake it, with the 
most careless exertion of his strength, that he might 
show it to be safe. 

It is for all these reasons, that we shall task our- 
selves for a few moments to examine the totally un- 
authorised and groundless character of the charge 
24 



278 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 



now pressed against us, of being, notwithstanding our 
Christian profession, ourselves Infidels. But for the 
same reasons, we cannot anticipate that we shall 
awaken in ourselves much zeal on the subject. We 
cannot, as we have said on a former occasion, fairly 
descend into the arena of argument ; we cannot seri- 
ously put ourselves in contest at this point of recent 
attack ; for, with our professions, it would seem to us 
a moral indecorum so to do. We must take our stand 
aloof from this, and simply point out to our prying 
opponents, whether friendly or unfriendly, their mis- 
take. 

We lay our hands strongly, then, upon the founda- 
tion — the Bible. We say there is a communication 
from- Heaven. There is light supernaturally commu- 
nicated, and attested, to those Heaven-commissioned 
prophets and apostles, who in their turn, have simply, 
naturally, each after the manner of his own age, his 
own style, his own peculiar habits of thought and feel- 
ing, imparted it to us. There are truths recorded, 
beyond the human reach of the men who delivered 
them, and they are truths dearer to us than life. 

Right or wrong in our conviction, this is what we 
believe. We are not reasoning now with infidels ; if 
we were, we should undertake to show that we are 
right. But we are expostulating, we cannot reason, 
with those who deny us the credit of the faith we 
profess ; and we say to them, again, right or wrong, 
this is what we believe. Our opponents must pardon 
us, if we seem to them to speak loftily in a case like 
this. We put it to them, whether they could do less 
in similar circumstances. If the Catholics, or if we 
ourselves, were seriously and perseveringly to lay the 
charge against them, of being infidels in disguise, w^e 
ask them if they could consent gravely to argue upon 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 279 



it ? We put the case to their own feelings, and we 
say to them, as they would say to us or to others, in a 
change of circumstances ; " With all our solemn pro- 
fessions before them, with all our preaching and our 
prayers in the name of Christ, with all our labours to 
illustrate the holy Scriptures, with all our publications, 
our books, our commentaries ; with all these things 
before them, we say that the charge they bring is not 
decent ; and in common decency, we cannot descend 
to argue the point with them." 

The only decent allegation which they could bring, 
is, that our views tend to produce infidelity. On this 
point we should be at issue with them, and should be 
willing to reason. We are at issue with them, indeed ; 
for we say that their own views much more tend to 
produce infidelity. Nay, we seriously believe that it 
is our system, with thinking minds, that will prove to 
be the only sufficient defence and barrier against utter 
unbelief; and this is one great reason why we are 
anxious for its prevalence. We are perfectly willing 
to admit at the same time, that no speculative views 
are, with all persons and in all circumstances, an 
effectual preservative. We admit that some Unitarians 
in foreign countries have become infidels. But do not 
our opponents know, that many Calvinists, many Or- 
thodox persons, not in other countries alone, but in 
this also, have become infidels ; and that multitudes 
of Catholics abroad, believers in the Trinity and the 
atonement and many kindred points of doctrine, have 
fallen into utter disbelief of the Christian revelation ? 
Doubtless there is a medium somewhere, which is per- 
fect truth and secure faith ; and we believe, — without 
arrogance we hope, since it is a matter of simple sin- 
cerity and consistency so to believe — that we are 
nearest to that medium. 



280 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

It seems to us not a little extraordinary, and it il- 
lustrates indeed the observation with which we com- 
menced these remarks, that while our Orthodox breth- 
ren are charging us with these disguised and subtle 
errors, they do so completely wrap themselves up, as 
to all the difficult points of this controversy concerning 
inspiration, in general implications with regard to their 
own faith in the scriptures, and that they push those 
implications to an extent so utterly indefensible, so 
utterly unauthorised, at any rate, by many of the 
highest .standards of their own churches. And we 
must add that it seems to us a fact still more irrecon- 
cileable with candour and good faith, that while, with 
a view to show what our faith, or as they will have it, 
what our unbelief is— while, we say, for this professed 
purpose, they take brief sentence and disjointed mem- 
bers of sentences here and there from our writings, 
they altogether suppress the strong and full declara- 
tions we make of our belief in a supernatural commu- 
nication to the inspired teachers of our religion ; that 
they never tell their readers or hearers, that we " earn- 
estly contend for this faith " against unbelievers, and 
profess to find in it the highest joy and hope of our 
being. This, we must remind them, is an utter viola- 
tion of all the received courtesies of religious contro- 
versy. For a reasoner to charge upon opponents his 
inferences as their faith, has long been branded as one 
of the most inadmissible practices in controversy. But 
pertinaciously to do this, in the face of the most deli- 
berate protestations to the contrary, and without notic- 
ing such protestations ; and this, too, before communi- 
ties that either have not the means, or will not use them, 
of learning the truth, is a conduct for which we would 
gladly see any tolerable apology. For if he who " robs 
us of our good name," does an inexcusable action, what 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 281 



shall we say of him, who, without affording us any 
remedy, robs us of the name we most honour and 
value ? We will not say what ; we regret the neces- 
sity of saying thus much. 

But we would invite those from whose lips the 
charge of infidelity so easily falls, to forsake the con- 
venient covert of general implication, and to tell us, in 
good truth, what they themselves believe on some of 
the matters of accusation that seems to them so 
weighty. 

In labouring to fix upon us the charge of infidelity, 
they quote from us as proof, the statement, that " the 
inspired penmen wrote in conformity with the philosophy 
of their respective ages— in conformity therefore with 
some portions of natural and metaphysical philosophy, 
that are false." We ask if they themselves believe 
any otherwise? Do they believe that the sacred 
writers foresaw the discoveries of modern science ? If 
they had this foresight, these matters would not have 
been left for discovery. 

Again, we have said, " It cannot be denied that there 
are some slight discrepances in the evangelical narra- 
tives ;" and this, too, has been quoted as evidence of 
our unbelief. But can it be denied? Does any intel- 
ligent student of the Scriptures — do our accusers deny 
it? We confess that we are surprised to read a cita- 
tion like this, because we consider it as a conceded 
point, in some of our best and best authorised books 
of evidences, that there are such discrepances, and 
because it is argued by our Christian apologists, as it 
was by ourselves, that these discrepances give addi- 
tional credit to the evangelical witnesses, by showing 
that there could have been "no collusion amon«r them." 

o 

One further extract. We remarked that " unbelievers 
have derived more plausible and just objections from 
24* 



2S2 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

the prevailing theological assumptions with regard to 
our sacred books, than from any other quarter ; " and 
then went on to say, that " the attacks which are 
usually made upon the philosophy of Moses, the im- 
precations of David, the differences among the apostles, 
the obscurities of Paul, and upon instances of puerility, 
coarseness, and indelicacy in style, and inappositeness 
in illustration, are all of this nature." These expres- 
sions, again, are quoted as confirmation strong of our 
infidelity. On each of these points we should like to 
put those who arraign us to the question, and to see 
where they stand. Do they believe in the philosophy 
of Moses ? Do they reject the Copernican system in 
astronomy, and maintain with Moses, who wrote in 
conformity with Jewish astronomy, that the heavens 
are a solid concave, in which the sun, planets and 
stars, like splendid balls of light, perform a daily 
revolution around the earth? The answer of the 
rational defender of a revelation to the infidel objection 
arising from this quarter, is easy. He says that Moses 
was not commissioned to teach philosophy, but religion. 
But of this answer our opponents deprive themselves, 
since to question the philosophy of Moses is with them 
a sign of infidelity. 

Next, " the imprecations of David " — do they under- 
take to defend them ? Speaking of his enemy, David 
uses the following tremendous supplications ; — " Set 
thou a wicked man over him, and let Satan stand at 
his right hand. When he shall be judged, let him 
be condemned, and let his prayer become sin. Let 
his days be few, and let another take his office. Let his 
children be fatherless, and his wife a widow. Let his 
children be continually vagabonds, and beg. Let 
the extortioner also catch all that he hath, and let the 
strangers spoil his . labour. Let there be none to ex- 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 2S3 

tend mercy unto him; neither let there be any to favour 
his fatherless children. Let his posterity be cut off, 
and in the generation following let their name be cut 
off. Let the iniquity of his fathers be remembered 
with the Lord, and let not the sin of his mother be 
blotted out." It is impossible not to say with Le Clerc, 
these are the words of a man " full of excessive choler, 
and an extreme desire to be revenged. And yet," says 
he, u some famous divines have put in the title to this 
Psalm, that David, as a type of Jesus Christ, being 
driven on by a singular zeal, prays that vengeance 
may be executed on his enemies ! But where," he 
says, " do they find that Jesus Christ does curse his 
enemies at that rate ?" Another caption reads that 
" David, complaining of his slanderous enemies, under 
the person of Judas, devoteth them." But the truth is, 
all these explanations are perfectly gratuitous. They 
are worse than gratuitous ; they sanction a wrong 
principle. Can it be right to curse any being, and so 
to curse him — to curse not only him but his father, his 
mother, his children, and his whole posterity, for his 
sin ? Indeed, there is no defence to be made of this 
passage. This could not have proceeded from the 
good and merciful spirit of God. It was the imperfec- 
tion of David, thus to feel. It was the imperfection 
of a rude and barbarous age. It belonged to a period 
of early and erring piety to use such a prayer. And it 
does not disannul the evidence furnished by other 
portions of his writings, that the Psalmist derived an 
inspiration from heaven. Those lofty conceptions of 
the spirituality and glory of God, and those sacred and 
transcendent affections which he entertained, consider- 
ing the period in which he wrote, seem to us, in their 
intrinsic character, to warrant the claim to more than 
human teaching. The book of Psalms, as a whole, 



284 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

appears to us, the more we study it and the age in 
which it was composed, to bear marks of an elevation 
and purity that are supernatural. There is nothing 
more wonderful to us in its character, than that in an 
age when the universal reliance was on things ma- 
terial, when all the ideas of what is good, and happy, 
with the world at large, stopped at this point, — that 
the mind of David should have found its rest, its 
portion, its all-sufficiency, as it did, in God ; that he 
should, in this noblest respect, have gone so far beyond 
the prevailing piety of every subsequent age. But we 
must not dwell upon this subject. Our reverence for 
the Psalmist is great ; but we cannot be blind to the 
imperfection of such a passage as that which we have 
cited. When the imprecations of David are next 
alluded to, we hope there will be some attempt at an 
explanation of them into accordance with the received 
ideas of inspiration, or an honest confession of the 
hopelessness of the task. 

We insist upon these instances, more than we should 
do with any reference that is personal to ourselves or 
others. They present difficulties, in truth, to the 
advocates of literal and plenary inspiration which we 
could wish them fairly to meet. 

Our reference to "the differences among the apostles," 
it is said, is another argument to prove that we are 
infidels. But do they, we ask again, deny that there 
were differences and disputes among the apostles — 
differences and disputes in regard to their apostolic 
conduct and work? Did not Paul upbraid Peter at 
Antioch, for " not walking uprightly according to the 
truth of the Gospel ; " — for making in fact a false 
impression in his apostolic character ? Did he not 
"withstand him to the face, because he Avas to be 
blamed ? " Did not Paul and Barnabas dispute at the 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 285 



same place, and was not "the contention so sharp, that 
they departed asunder one from the other?" 

Then as to "the obscurities of Paul;" on what age 
of Biblical criticism have we fallen, when it is denied, 
even by implication, that there are obscurities in Paul ; 
"things hard to be understood?" On what age of 
common sense, when the mention of these obscurities 
is set down as confirmatory evidence to sustain the 
charge of infidelity ? And further, if the style he has 
adopted is obscure and hard to be understood, is that 
style, as mere style, to be commended as anything 
more than a human composition ? Are the words that 
compose it, either "grammatically or rhetorically the 
best words?" Still further as to the Scriptural style, 
the allegation that there are instances of puerility, 
coarseness and indelicacy, has been referred to as 
bearing a skeptical aspect. But has any man ever 
read the Old Testament without finding such instances? 
To us, they have no more weight, and they furnish no 
more difficulty, as affecting the question of a divine 
communication, than the costume of that ancient age. 
We should as soon think of requiring good breeding 
or politeness in the writers. Such phraseology belongs 
to the period, and its absence would take away one 
mark of truth from the record. But what the advo- 
cates of a literal and suggesting inspiration are to do 
with such instances, it passes our comprehension to 
devise. We beseech them to consider those instances, 
— it would be improper to quote them, we dare not refer 
to the text — and to tell us whether they are ready to 
pledge the sense and delicacy of Christian men for the 
propriety of such passages in sacred books or any other 
books. We warn them, if they do confound the 
claims of revelation with the defence of such passages, 
if they dare to present themselves before the searching 
24* 



286 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 



and free spirit of this age with such a defence, that 
they will have something to do with infidelity, besides 
conjuring up a phantom of it in the faith of their fellow 
Christians. „ 

Lastly, "inappositeness in illustration." We would 
ask any man learned in the Scriptures, whether he 
does not believe that the New Testament exhibits 
frequent instances of Jewish allegorizing ; and whether 
these instances do not conform to the principles of that 
mode of illustration ; and whether he accounts those 
principles to have been very strict, or exact, or logical? 
W e will refer our hasty accusers to some of their own 
authorities. Dr. Woods says, "It is no objection to the 
inspiration of the Scriptures, that they exhibit all the 
varieties in the mode of writing that are common in 
other works." Other works, we suppose he means, of 
the same period, and indeed he instances under this 
observation the "allegory.*' Were the allegories of 
Jewish "works" always exactly apposite? He main- 
tains, we know, that there is a relevance ; but does 
this amount to an exact appositeness ? Bishop Atter- 
bury sa)^s, "The language of the East" — and he 
applies this observation to the Scriptures — " speaks of 
nothing simply, but in the boldest and most lofty 
figures and in the longest and most strained allego- 
ries." Dr. Powell. Master of St. John's College, 
Cambridge, says, in speaking of the writings of Paul, 
"Lastly, he abounds with broken sentences, bold 
figures, and hard, far-fetched metaphors."* 

We introduce two or three criticisms of Dr. Jahn, 
on some of the prophets, which we presume no one 
will call in question. Of Ezekiel, Dr. Jahn says, 
" His tropes and images do not always exactly corres- 
pond with nature ;" of Zachariah, " Many novel and 
* Dr. Powell's Sermon on Inspiration, 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 287 

elegant tropes and allegories occur, but they are not 
always quite in character with the nature of the 
things from which they are drawn."* Can any critic 
maintain that there is in the Scriptures an invariable 
" appositeness of illustration ?" If there is, then the 
language is not, as Dr. Woods admits it is, " com- 
pletely human," but perfectly divine. 

But all this proves, say our revieAvers, that " in re- 
gard to some portions of the Bible, Unitarians no 
more believe the ideas inspired, than they do the 
words." Once more, we ask, do they believe in the 
inspiration of every idea that is contained in the 
Bible ? That is the implication conveyed by their 
words ; but do they believe it ? Do they believe that 
the Psalmist was inspired to say, " O daughter of 
Babylon, thou art to be destroyed. Happy shall he 
be, that rewardeth thee, as thou hast served us. Hap- 
py shall he be that taketh and dasheth thy little ones 
against the stones." Or when Solomon says, " Be 
not thou one of them that strike hands, or of them 
that are sureties for debts," do they believe that this 
injunction was inspired ? Or when Paul uses this 
opprobrious language to the officer that struck him, 
" God shall smite thee, thou whited wall !" do they ac- 
count this to be the fruit of inspiration ? " Where," 
says Jerome, speaking of this angry retort, " where is 
that patience of our Saviour, who, as a lamb led to 
the slaughter, opened not his mouth, but answered 
mildly to him that struck him, " If I have spoken ill, 
convince me of the ill ; but if well, why do you strike 
me ?" 

Let us take an instance of a different character. 
Paul says to Timothy, " Demas hath forsaken me, 
having loved this present world, and is departed unto 

* Jahn's Introduction to the Old Testament, 



288 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

Thessalonica, Crescens to Galatia, Titus unto Dal- 
matia. Only Luke is with me. And Tychicus have 
I sent to Ephesus. The cloak that I left at Troas 
with Carpus, when thou comest, bring", and the books, 
especially the parchments." Now can any sensible 
man believe that these ideas were inspired ? We pre- 
sume not. Well, can any man believe — for this is 
the only tolerable supposition for our opponents — that 
Paul was specially directed to say these thing's to 
Timothy ? They may believe so, but to us it seems 
a most unnecessary exaction upon our faith. We can 
believe that they were specially directed to state many 
things, which were derived, not from divine sugges- 
tion, but from memory ; to state many things 
that were important as matters of fact and testimony ; 
and that in this, the only possible sense, such things 
were inspired. But to suppose that Paul was divinely 
prompted to request that his cloak and books might 
be brought from Troas, and especially the parch- 
ments, looks to us more like an attempt to cast con- 
tempt on the doctrine of inspiration than seriously to 
defend it. We have opened at this moment on a pas- 
sage of Dr. Woods's Lectures, where he comments on 
this text. He says to the objector, " I would ask him 
what reason he has to think that the direction was 
unimportant either to the comfort and usefulness of 
Paul, or to the interests of the churches." To the 
interests of the churches, we suppose he means, inas- 
much as it promoted Paul's comfort ; and we answer, 
no reason. But is it to be thought that every request 
or direction of Paul's that concerned his own comfort, 
and, through that, his usefulness, was a matter of 
inspiration? We might as well say that when he 
asked for food at the daily board, he was inspired, as 
when he asked for clothing on the approach of whiter ; 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 289 



for the promise of divine guidance extended, it will not 
be denied, to what the Apostles spoke, as much as to 
what they wrote. But to presume that this guidance 
was given in the minutest affairs of every day conve- 
nience and prudence, is not only an extension of the 
promise wholly unwarranted by the terms of it, as we 
think, but it is a stretch of inference which shows that 
the common theory of inspiration presses hard. 

For ourselves, we feel no such pressure. Our minds 
are so much at ease in this argument, that we are 
ready to throw the little ball we have just been 
winding up, to our neighbours, for their further amuse- 
ment. We cannot help referring those — we mean not 
the author we have just quoted — but those who are so 
fond of running out parallels between Unitarians and 
Infidels, who have lately studied so hard upon "Bolin- 
broke, Hobbes, Tindal, Morgan, Dodwell and Gibbon," 
— referring them, we say, for it must cost a good deal 
of labour to hunt up so many references on both sides, 
to the new instances we have just given them, to be 
added to their useful catalogue. We warrant that 
Bolinbroke, Hobbes, Tindal, Morgan, Dodwell or 
Gibbon, or, perhaps, Paine, have quoted the same 
passages in objecting to Christianity, that we have 
quoted in objecting to the Orthodox views of inspira- 
tion. What a notable argument is it, and what 
notable minds must it be expected to operate upon ! 
Unitarians believe some things that Infidels believe, 
and use some of the same methods of reasoning : there- 
fore Unitarians are Infidels ! But let us try a different 
application of this favourite argument, and see how it 
will stand. Orthodox persons believe in a Providence ; 
so do many Infidels, therefore the Orthodox are 
Infidels. The Trinitarians have departed from the 
simple unity of God, and conceive of three distinct 
25 



290 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

principles, each of which is God ; so did Plato ; there- 
fore Trinitarians are Platonists; they have forsaken 
Christianity, and, shocking to relate ! have gone back 
to Heathenism. Calvinists decry human nature ; so 
did the French philosophers ; therefore Calvinists are 
Infidel philosophers. They are Necessitarians too ; so 
were some of the ancient philosophers ; and therefore, 
their system is a strange mixture of ancient and 
modern skepticism. The parallel might proceed, and 
thus it would be. "Nay, but we make distinctions,' 7 
these several sects would say. We cannot help it ; 
we do not see them ; these meshes of sophistry are all 
broken and crushed before the step of this "mighty 
and grinding dispensation" under which we are 
fighting the battle for truth. "Well, but we profess 
to be Christians." Ay, profess ; no doubt you profess. 
That furthers your purposes for a while; you are 
"Infidels in disguise;" you are on the way to a 
disclosure ; and " the sooner you come out," the better. 
" Ah," our opponents will say, with a serious face after 
all, " but can you shut your eyes to the great, historical 
fact, that some of the German theologians, a few years 
ago, speculated on some points as you do ; and that 
they have now become Infidels ? " The Catholic shall 
answer for us. " Can you, Calvinistic Protestants, shut 
your eyes to the great, historical fact, that, but fifty 
years ago the German theologians speculated in all 
respects as you do, unless that they speculated less 
freely, and that now, some of them are Infidels, and 
many of them Unitarians, and that almost all deny 
the Scriptural obligation of the Sabbath, the eternity 
of future punishments, and hold the Old Testament to 
to be of authority inferior to that of the New?* This 

* We wish, indeed, that those whose imaginations are so possessed 
with the resemblance which we bear to the Liberal Party in Ger- 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 291 

is what we told Luther and his coadjutors long ago — 
told them so at the time. We told them, that they 
were plunging themselves, or then successors, at any 
rate, into infidelity. Nay, Holy Church deems but 
little better of you now, than that you are Infidels ! It 
holds you outcasts from faith and hope; and it ill 
becomes you to protest against this exclusion, so long 
as you are dealing out the whole measure of its 
severity against those who differ from you." We 
commend the argument of the Catholic to those whom 
it may concern, and return to our discussion; only 
saying, as we pass, that the Catholic Doctors have 
more ground than they think for, to support the 
sophism by which they claim Protestant Christians as 
belonging to the one infallible and undivided church. 
Protestant Christians do indeed exhibit too many proofs 
of belonging to it ; and this we say, not in the spirit 
of sarcasm, but of sober and sad reflection. 

It is time to ask — since the term is so vaguely used 
and for such purposes — What is Infidelity ? Let the 
modern Orthodox luminaries of Germany, Storr and 
Flatt, answer for us ; for they answer wisely and with 
discrimination. "The question," say they, "is not, 
Shall we believe the doctrines of Jesus under the same 
conditions that we believe the declarations of any other 

many; who have runs; all the changes of argument, warning, and 
scarcasm, upon it, till we should think it could scarcely yield 
another note ; we wish that they would look at the state of the 
Orthodox Party in that country. How easy would it be for us, if we 
were disposed to practise this lately perfected art of seizing occa- 
sions, to wage this petty war of comparisons, and allusions, and 
insinuations; to address ourselves, not to the reflections, but to the 
imagination of the people ; how easy to retort, and to spread a 
vague horror against half of the Orthodox clergy of New England ! 
But do we live at a period when there is no discrimination ? Is the 
learning of Germany, with its hasty, though monstrous growth, to 
deter all the world from inquiry ? 



292 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

teacher, namely, provided our reason discovers them to 
be true ; but the question is, Shall we believe the 
instructions of Jesus, under circumstances in which 
we would not believe any other teacher, who was not 
under the special influence of God. It is useless to 
speak of a revelation, if we attribute to Jesus no other 
inspiration than that what the Naturalist will attribute 
to him, and which may just as well be attributed to the 
Koran, and to ever}^ other pretended revelation ; nay, 
to all teachers of religion ; that is, if we receive only 
those doctrines, whose truth is manifest to the eye of 
reason, and call them divine only because all truth is 
derived from God, the author of our reason."* It is in 
this vague sense that some Infidels have called the 
Scriptures divine ; that Bolingbroke has denominated 
them " the word of God,' ? and that Rousseau has seemed 
to acknowledge so much, in those eloquent testimonies 
of his, to the beauty of the Scriptures and of our Savi- 
our's character, which put the coldness of many Chris- 
tian teachers to shame. But now let the question be 
fairly stated ; — Does, or did, any Infidel ever admit the 
divine, supernatural, miraculous origin of that system 
of interpositions and instructions, that is recorded in 
the Bible ? And was anything ever heard of, in all the 
annals of theological extravagance, more monstrous, 
than to charge men, who devoutly and gratefully pro- 
fess to receive the Bible in this supernatural character, 
with being Infidels ? 

Let not our brethren in the Christian faith be shaken 
from their steadfastness, by this senseless cry, or the 
vague horror which it is designed to spread abroad 
among the people. Let them examine the glorious 
temple of their faith, too clear in their perceptions, too 
strong in their admiration, to be disturbed by the slight 

* Bibl. Theol. § 16. IL 3. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 293 

appendages which the tastes and styles of different 
ages have gathered around it. Let them study the 
sublime and precious record of heaven-inspired truth, 
with a freedom, with a faith, with a feeling, that 
standeth not in the letter, but in the spirit. 

We cannot think it a hard case to be classed in our 
faith on this subject, with such men as Grotius and 
Erasmus, with Paley and Burnet. And we are really 
curious to know, we wish that our accusers would tell 
us, what they are to do with such men. Erasmus and 
Grotius, Burnet and Paley Infidels! It is indeed a 
discovery in the Christian world. 

We shall now take up a few moments in making 
some further references of this nature ; for it is time, 
as we have already said, to refer to some of the most 
able defenders of our faith, and to inquire whether 
their names, too, are to fall under this newly devised 
opprobrium. 

St. Jerome says, "The Prophet Amos was skilled in 
knowledge, not in language." And then in a com- 
ment on the third chapter he adds, " We told you that 
he uses the terms of his own profession, and because a 
shepherd knows nothing more terrible than a lion, he 
compares the anger of God to lions." Did not. Jerome, 
then, regard the language as " purely human ? " Did 
he regard it as " rhetorically the best language ? " 

The learned Le Clerc, whose writings occupy a dis- 
tinguished place in all our theological libraries, says, 
with a latitude of expression, indeed, beyond what we 
should use — Thus, then, according to my hypothesis, 
the authority of the Scripture continues in full force. 
For you see, I maintain, that we are obliged to believe 
the substance of the history of the New Testament, 
and generally, all the doctrines of Jesus Christ, all that 
was inspired to the Apostles, and also whatsoever they 
25* 



294 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 



have said of themselves, so far as it is conformable to 
our Saviour's doctrine and to right reason. It is plain 
that nothing farther is necessarily to be believed in order 
to salvation. And it seems also evident to me, that 
those new opinions brought into the Christian religion 
since the death of the Apostles, which I have here 
refuted, being altogether imaginary and ungrounded, 
instead of bringing any advantage to the Christian 
religion, are really very prejudicial to it. An inspira- 
tion is attributed to the Apostles, to which they never 
pretended, and whereof there is not the least mark left 
in their writings. Hereupon it happens, that very 
many persons who have strength enough of under- 
standing to deny assent to a thing for which there is 
no good proof brought — though preached with never 
so much gravity — it happens, I say, that these persons 
reject all the Christian religion, because they do not 
distinguish true Christianity from those dreams of 
fanciful divines."* 

For the opinion that we are to look to the sub- 
stance of the Scriptures, and not to the letter — not to 
eveiy exact mode of phraseology, let us see what 
countenance we have from Dr. Lightfoot, by univer- 
sal consent allowed to be one of the most learned and 
eminent men in the English Church. After saying 
that the evangelists and apostles used the Greek ver- 
sions of the Old Testament in their quotations from 
it, he speaks of that version in the following terms : — ■ 
" I question not but the interpreters (the LXX,) 
whoever they were, engaged themselves in this under- 
taking (the translation of the Old Testament,) with 
something of a partial mind, and as they made no 
great conscience of imposing on the Gentiles, so they 
made it their religion to favour their own side ; and, 

* Essay on Inspiration. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 295 



according to this ill temperament and disposition of 
mind, so did they manage their version, either adding 
or curtailing at pleasure, blindly, lazily, and auda- 
ciously enough ; sometimes giving a very foreign 
sense, sometimes a contrary, oftentimes none ; and this 
frequently to patronise their own traditions, or to avoid 
some offence they think might be in the original, or 
for the credit and safety of their own nation. The 
tokens of all which, it would not be difficult to in- 
stance in very great numbers, would I apply myself 
to it."* Now admitting all, or anything of this to be 
true, is it possible to suppose that the apostles held the 
authority of the Scriptures, as is now done, to depend 
on their verbal accuracy ? There is reason, indeed, 
w T ith Le Clerc, to denominate these views of inspira- 
tion, " new opinions brought into the church since the 
death of the apostles." 

But our present business is with authorities. Bishop 
Atterbury, in his sermon on 2 Peter iii. 16, writes thus : — 
" For consider Ave with ourselves, what manner of men 
the apostles were in their birth and education, what 
country they lived in, what language they wrote in ; 
and we shall find it rather wonderful that there are so 
few, than that there are so many things that we are 
at a loss to understand. They were men (all except 
Paul) meanly born and bred, and uninstructed utterly 
in the arts of speaking and writing. All the lan- 
guage they were masters of, was purely what was ne- 
cessary to express themselves upon the common affairs 
of life, and in matters of intercourse with men of their 
own rank and profession. When they came, there- 
fore, to talk of the great doctrines of the cross, to 
preach up the astonishing truths of the Gospel, they 
brought, to be sure, their old idiotisms [idioms] and 

* VoL II., p. 401. 



296 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

plainness of speech along with them. And is it 
strange, then, that the deep things of God should not 
always be expressed by them in words of the greatest 
propriety and clearness ?" 

Bishop Chandler says, speaking of Paul's reason- 
ings on certain points, " In all this he saith no more than 
that the subject of his mystical reasons, as they relate 
to Christ, was taught them by the Spirit; the doctrines 
were divine ; yet the means and topics, from whence 
they were sometimes urged and confirmed, were hu- 
man" 

The following observations from Locke's Essay on 
the Understanding of St. Paul's Epistles, we presume 
no judicious critic will gainsay, and we see not how 
the inference is to be rejected, that the manner and 
style were altogether his own, and purely human, and 
plainly imperfect. 

" To these causes of obscurity common to St. Paul 
with most of the other penmen of the several books 
of the New Testament, we may add those that are pe- 
culiarly his, and owing to his style and temper. He 
was, as it is visible, a man of quick thought, warm 
temper, mighty well versed in the writings of the Old 
Testament, and full of the doctrine of the New : all 
this put together, suggested matter to" him in abun- 
dance on those subjects that came in his way ; so that 
one may consider him, when he was writing, as beset 
with a crowd of thoughts, all striving for utterance. 
In this posture of mind it was almost impossible for 
him to keep that slow pace, and observe minutely that 
order and method of ranging all that he said, from 
which results an easy and obvious perspicuity. To 
this plenty and vehemence of his may be imputed 
many of those large parentheses, which a careful 
reader may observe in his Epistles. Upon this ac- 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 297 



count, also, it is that he often breaks off, in the middle 
of an argument, to let in some new thought suggested 
by his own words ; which having pursued and ex- 
plained as far as conduced to his present purpose, he 
reassumes again the thread of his discourse, and goes 
on with it, without taking any notice that he returns 
again to what he had been before saying ; though 
sometimes it be so far off that it may well have slipt 
out of his mind, and requires a very attentive reader 
to observe, and so bring the disjointed members toge- 
ther as to. make up the connexion, and see how the 
scattered parts of the discourse hang together in a 
coherent well-agreeing sense, that makes it all of a 
piece." 

We should not proceed with these quotations mere- 
ly for our own defence ; but we think they deserve 
attention on their own account, upon a subject so little 
understood, and so likely to attract further notice, as 
the character in which the Scriptures are to be receiv- 
ed as containing a revelation from God. We shall 
therefore make one or two extracts from Bishop Bur- 
net and Dr. Paley, in addition to those given in a for- 
mer article. 

In his Exposition of the Thirty nine Articles, Bish- 
op Burnet thus writes : " And thus far I have laid 
down such a scheme concerning inspiration and in- 
spired writings, as will afford, to such as apprehend it 
aright, a solution to most of these difficulties with 
which we are urged on the account of some passages 
in the sacred writings. The laying down a scheme 
that asserts an immediate inspiration which goes to the 
style and to every tittle, and that denies any error to 
have crept into any of the copies, as it seems on the one 
hand to raise the honour of the Scriptures very high- 
ly, so it lies open, on the other hand, to great diflicul- 



298 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

ties, which seem insuperable in that hypothesis ; 
whereas a middle way, as it settles the divine inspira- 
tion of these writings, and their being continued down 
genuine and unvitiated to us, as to all that, for which 
we can only suppose that inspiration was given ; 
so it helps us more easily out of all difficulties, by 
yielding that which serves to answer them, without, 
weakening the authority of the whole."* 

We give an extract from Dr. Paley's chapter on Er- 
roneous Opinions imputed to the Apostles, referring 
our readers, who would learn his views in detail, to the 
whole chapter. " We do not usually question the 
credit of a writer, by reason of any opinion he may 
have delivered upon subjects unconnected with his 
evidence ; and even upon subjects connected with his 
account, or mixed with it in the same discourse or 
writing, we naturally separate facts from opinions, tes- 
timony from observation, narrative from argument. 

" To apply this equitable consideration to the Chris- 
tian records, much controversy, and much objection 
has been raised concerning the quotations of the Old 
Testament found in the New ; some of which quota- 
tions, it is said, are applied in a sense, and to events, 
apparently different from that which they bear, and 
from those to which they belong, in the original. 
It is probable, to my apprehension, that many of those 
quotations were intended by the writers of the New 
Testament as nothing more than accommodations. 
Such accommodations of passages from old authors 
are common with writers of all countries ; but in none 
perhaps were more to be expected, than in the writings 
of the Jews, whose literature was almost entirely con- 
fined to their Scriptures." " Those prophecies which 
are alleged with more solemnity, and which are ac- 
* P. 88, 2d fol. edition, 1700. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 299 



companied with a precise declaration that they origin- 
ally respected the event then related, are, I think, truly 
alleged. But were it otherwise, is the judgment of the 
writers of the New Testament, in interpreting passa- 
ges of the Old, or sometimes perhaps in receiving estab- 
lished interpretations, so connected either with their 
veracity, or with their means of information concerning 
what was passing in their own times, as that a critical 
mistake, even were it more clearly made out, should 
overthrow their historical credit? Does it diminish it ? 
Has it anything to do with it I"* 

It is well known that the doctrine of inspiration has 
been exceedingly modified by the progress of biblical 
criticism, within the last half century. To this pur- 
pose we quote Jahn, in reference to the prevailing state 
of opinion in Germany. " Most of the Protestants 
formed a very strict idea of inspiration, and defended 
it as late as the middle of the eighteenth century. 
But after the publication of the learned work of Toell- 
ner on inspiration, in 1772, and of Sender's examina- 
tion of the Canon, 1771-3, many undertook to inves- 
tigate the doctrine of inspiration, and gradually relaxed 
in their views of it, until at last they entirely banished 
the doctrine, so that at present but few admit it."t 

It would not be difficult to prove that there has been 
a similar, though not an equal, nor equally extended, 
progress of opinion in England. We have in a former 
article referred to Dr. Powell and Bishop Marsh. 

Dr. Durell, Principal of Hertford College, Oxford, 
and Prebendary of Canterbury, said long ago, in speak- 
ing of the imprecations sometimes occurring in the 
Psalms, — " How far it may be proper to continue the 
reading of these Psalms in the daily service of our 

* Evidences, Part iii. chap. ii. 

f Introduction to the Old Testament, §23. 



300 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

church, I leave to the consideration of the legislature 
to determine. A Christian of erudition may consider 
these imprecations only as the natural sentiments of 
Jews, which the benign religion he professes, abhors 
aud condemns. But what are the illiterate to do, who 
know not whence to draw the line between the Law 
and the Gospel ? They hear both read one after the 
other, and. I fear, think them both of equal obligation, 
and even take shelter under scripture to cover their 
curses. Though I am conscious I here tread on 
slippery ground, I will take leave to hint, that, not- 
withstanding the high antiquity that sanctifies, as it 
were, this practice, it would, in the opinion of a number 
of wise and good men, be more for the credit of the 
Christian church, to omit a few of those Psalms, and 
substitute some parts of the Gospel in their stead." 

Speaking of Paul's manner of writing in his Epistles, 
Bishop Marsh says, " The erudition there displayed, is 
the erudition of a learned Jew. The argumentation 
there displayed, is the argumentation of a Jewish con- 
vert to Christianity, confuting his brethren on their 
own ground." 

Still more strongly, Dr. Maltby, late preacher at 
Lincoln's Inn, in his Sermons ; — " Whatsoever doctrines 
connected with revelation, are clearly discoverable in 
the writings of St. Paul, we receive with reverence and 
faith, as the will of God. But let us beware how we 
misunderstand the meaning of a writer, whose mean- 
ing from so many causes may be misunderstood. Let 
us discriminate when he is addressing his adversaries 
as a logician, and when he unequivocally expresses 
his own personal conviction."* 

The Quarterly Review, which has been considered 
as representing the sentiments of the English Church, 

* Maltby's Sermons, Vol. I. p. 311. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 301 



in an article on Professor Buckland's ' Reliquiae Dilu- 
viancej uses the following language. Addressing the 
friends of religion, it says — •" We would call to their 
recollection, also, the opinions formerly maintained, as 
to the plenary and even literal inspiration of Scripture ; 
the clamour raised against the first collections of vari- 
ous readings, in the copies of the New Testament, and 
still later against those of the Old. 

" Well indeed is it for us that the cause of revela- 
tion does not depend on questions such as these ; for 
it is remarkable that in every instance the controversy 
has ended in the gradual surrender of those very 
points, which were at one time represented as involv- 
ing the vital interests of religion."* 

But we have wearied ourselves, and our readers we 
fear, with quotations. And truly what need of autho- 
rities ? Let us quote Paul himself. So personal, so 
private many times, so peculiar always, so mixing up 
his natural feelings and interests with the ministration 
of the Gospel, that one of the charms of his writings, 
is the charm of his own noble generosity and artless- 
ness — how is it possible to think of him, in many of 
these passages, but as giving utterance to feelings en- 
tirely natural, in words and arguments purely human ! 
Let us quote Paul, we say ; and we may take a pas- 
sage almost at random, and leave it to the judgment 
of our readers. " Am I not an Apostle ? Am I not 
free? have I not seen Jesus Christ our Lord? are ye 
not my work in the Lord ? If I be not an apostle un- 
to others, yet doubtless I am to you : for the seal of 
mine apostleship are ye in the Lord. Mine answer to 
them that do examine me is this ; Have we not power 
to eat and to drink? Have we not power to lead 
about a sister, a wife, as well as other apostles, and as 

* Quarterly Review, No. LXVII. p. 142. 
26 



302 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

the brethren of the Lord, and Cephas ? Or I only and 
Barnabas, have we not power to forbear working? 
Who goeth a warfare any time at his own charges ? 
who planteth a vineyard, and eateth not of the fruit 
thereof? or who feedeth a flock, and eateth not of the 
milk of the flock ?"* 

We shall now leave the charge of infidelity, and 
shall enter upon a brief consideration of the Lectures 
which we have placed at the head of this article. We 
feel, in doing so, that we are breathing a new atmos- 
phere, that we are passing from storm to sunshine, 
from a cloudy region to clearer light ; and truly if we 
are to fall in any contest, we had rather be stricken 
down by the sunbeam, than by a driving mist. We 
see in these Lectures the same fine and cautious dis- 
crimination, for which we have long considered Dr. 
Woods as distinguished, and which, we believe, would 
render him eminent in any church ; and though he 
has not cleared up our difficulties, though he has not, 
indeed, grappled with the difficulties that most press 
upon our own minds, yet, if we are wrong, we cer- 
tainly should be more likely to be reclaimed, by his 
discriminating arguments, than by violent anathemas 
and wholesale denunciations. When will Christian 
controversialists approach but so distantly to the kind- 
liness of our common faith, as to recognise the claims 
of common humanity, and to pay any tolerable respect 
to the sincerity and worth of their opponents ! 

We understand Dr. Woods. We know that he is 
no temporizer. We hear him speak of dangers. Per- 
haps we admit that there are dangers ; perhaps we 
feel it ; perhaps we pray for light and safety, and fear 
lest we should stretch out a rash hand to the ark of 
God to save it from the hands of the Philistines. All 

* Cor. ix. 1—7. 



NA T v RE AND EXTENT OF IN3P • RATION. 303 

this may be ; for when or where was the speculative 
or moral path, of any human being free from dangers ? 

Dr. Woods commences with " remarks on the proper 
mode of reasoning, and on the nature and source of 
the evidence, by which divine inspiration is to be 
proved." In the course of these remarks, he introduces 
with approbation a passage from Dr. Knapp, which, 
as containing some important discriminations, we will 
quote. " These two positions ; the contents of the 
sacred books, or the doctrines taught in them, are of 
divine origin; and the books themselves are given 
by inspiration of God, are not the same but need 
to be carefully distinguished. It does not follow from 
the arguments which prove the doctrines of the Scrip- 
tures to be divine, that the books themselves were 
written under a divine impulse. A revealed truth 
may be taught in any book ; but it does not follow 
that the book itself is divine. We might be convinced 
of the truth and divinity of the Christian religion, 
from the mere genuineness of the books of the New 
Testament and the credibility of their authors. The 
divinity of the Christian religion can therefore be con- 
ceived, independently of the inspiration of the Bible. 
This distinction was made as early as the time of 
Melancthon." 

On this passage we have two remarks to offer. In 
the first place, according to the obvious distinction 
here adopted by Dr. Woods, we could take refuge 
within the pale of Christianity, even though we believed 
much less than we do. In the second place, believing 
as we do, we have no difficulty in admitting the doc- 
trine of inspiration in the general terms here laid 
down. 

We do indeed differ from the author of the Lectures 
when he goes into detail. We believe that the truths 



304 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

of our religion were inspired, and that the teachers of 
our religion were divinely directed and assisted to com- 
municate them ; but we cannot see that such an 
inspiration is, or need be, a pledge for the perfect 
accuracy or correctness of every word they wrote, or 
of every illustration or argument by which they 
enforced their message. 

But this brings us to the question ; and on this 
question Dr. Woods lays down the following, and only 
safe, rule, and, as we may venture hereafter to remind 
him, the only rule. " The single argument," he says, 
" on which I propose to rest the doctrine of inspiration, 
is the testimony of the sacred writers themselves." 

With this rule before him, and after clearing the 
way to his main subject by several qualifications, to 
which we shall soon have occasion to refer, Dr. Woods 
adduces arguments for the inspiration, first of the Old, 
and then of the New Testament. And we confess, that, 
if Ave did not read the illustrations of his arguments, 
or if we were not aware beforehand that our views 
differed from his — that if we took his arguments just 
as they stand in their simple statement, we should never 
suspect that they were designed to establish a position 
different from that in which we ourselves stand. 

The first argument, of course, for the inspiration of 
the Old Testament, is from the passages — " For the 
prophecy came not in old times by the will of man, 
but holy men spake as they were moved by the Holy 
Ghost,"* and " All scripture is given by inspiration of 
God."t Now, not to insist upon learned or minute 
criticisms on these passages, from which we certainly 
think we should derive some advantages in the argu- 
ment, let them be taken for all that they can reason- 
ably be supposed to mean, or that, without straining 

* 2 Peter i. 21. \ Tim. iii. 16. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 305 

them, they can mean at all. "Prophecy" and "all 
Scripture" refer to the Old Testament as a whole, as 
a collection of writings ; and those writings had a 
divine and supernatural origin. They had a higher 
origin than the will of man. They form a body of 
divine communications ; they are the authorised records 
of a divine religion. Such a commentary surely satis- 
fies the obvious meaning of these passages. But can it 
be inferred that Peter and Paul, when they use this 
language, intend to claim every sentence and phrase 
as of divine inspiration ? These passages are precisely 
like those general declarations which we constantly 
make about the general character of books, when we 
have no intention to embrace every minute particular. 
We give a meaning to those texts, then, a very natural 
and a most important meaning, without involving 
ourselves in what seems to us the inextricable difficul- 
ties of defending every word in the Old Testament. 
Storr and Flatt say, in commenting on the passage hi 
Timothy, " It is certain from the declarations of the 
apostle Paul, that those books are in such a sense 
inspired and given by God, that they are to be regarded 
as of divine authority ; and for this reason they are 
entitled to credence. And this is the precise idea of 
divine inspiration, which, in the days of Timothy, was 
instilled into the minds of all the Jews from their 
earliest infancy." What Josephus says of the Jewish 
faith in their Scriptures, we are perfectly ready to 
assent to ; that they " esteem these books to contain 
divine doctrines," and he says nothing stronger in the 
whole passage,* to which the German theologians, just 
quoted, refer. — But even if it were admitted that the 
texts in question mean all that they can mean — that 
the words, " prophecy," and " all Scripture," mean 

* Against Apaion, Bk. I. 8. 

26* 



306 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 



every truth, every idea, contained in the Old Testa- 
ment, still it would not follow that those "holy men" 
were indebted for their style, or for any direction of their 
style, to inspiration. 

Dr. Woods's " next argument to prove the inspira- 
tion of the Old Testament scriptures, is, that Christ 
and his apostles treat them as possessing an authority 
entirely different from that of any other writings." To 
this we give entire assent ; and we yield to the infer- 
ence so far as we think it can fairly go. But that it 
goes to the sanctioning of every word or idea in those 
scriptures, we cannot see reason to admit. Without 
attributing to them any such perfection, they possess 
to our minds just such an authority ; that is to say, an 
" authority entirely different from that of any other 
writings," and this must to us, of course, be a decisive 
consideration. 

The arguments which Dr. Woods uses to prove the 
inspiration of the New Testament, are the following. 
First, "that Christ, who had all power in heaven and 
earth, commissioned his apostles to act in his stead, as 
teachers of the Christian religion, and confirmed their 
authority by miracles ;" secondly, that " Christ expressly 
promised to give his apostles the Holy Spirit to assist 
them in their work ;" and thirdly, " that there are 
many passages in the New Testament to show, that 
the writers considered themselves to be under the infal- 
lible guidance of the Spirit, and their instructions to 
be clothed with divine authority." 

Now we wish not to seem perverse or paradoxical 
to any one, certainly not to an author whose reason- 
ing powers we greatly respect ; but it appears to us 
that we can admit all these propositions, and we have 
no doubt, indeed, of their truth, without coming to the 
conclusion to which Dr. Woods would guide us. We 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 307 



believe that Jesus authorised the apostles to teach his 
religion, that he promised them special aid, and that 
they considered themselves as teaching the great 
truths of his religion under a guidance which, with 
reference to those truths, was infallible ; that they con- 
sidered their instructions as clothed with divine au- 
thority ; and yet, to the accomplishment of all this, to 
the bare making of the communication, we cannot 
perceive it to be necessary that there should have been 
any constant and miraculous interference with the 
natural operations of their own minds — any supernat- 
ural guardianship over their reasonings about the 
truths they were to deliver, or over their illustrations 
of it, over their comparisons, figures, or their phrases. 

He who maintains that inspiration does extend to 
these things, should bring express proof; should bring 
" the testimony of the writers themselves." Now here 
it is, to our minds, that the argument of Dr. Woods is 
essentially deficient. It is a negative argument ; and 
a negative argument, certainly, against the strongest 
positive presumption. The sacred waiters say, that 
they were directed to make the communication, that 
they w T ere commissioned to preach the Gospel ; but 
here their testimony ends. They do not say that they 
were, or would be, directed minutely in every phrase, 
figure, and illustration, how to preach it. On the con- 
trary, they preach in a manner, to all appearance, per- 
fectly natural to them. They preach as occasions 
arise, and their writings are mostly called forth by exi- 
gencies of trial and danger in the state of the churches. 
And, therefore, the presumption is against the exten- 
sion of inspiration contended for. 

We are aware, indeed, that Dr. Woods insists, that 
"as the writers of Scripture nowhere limit the divine 
influence which they enjoyed, to the thoughts or con- 



308 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

ceptions of their own minds," so neither should we. 
But can this canon of interpretation be supported? 
God's interposition in aid of human virtue, is taught 
without any express limit. Is there, therefore, no limit ? 
Does this interposition extend to the immediate and 
miraculous control or guidance of all holy affections ? 
So men are said to be inspired to teach the truth. But 
can it be fairly argued from thence, that the inspiring 
influence extends, beyond the truths revealed, to the 
words of the communication. Besides, if there were 
no limit, then there must have been an instant sugges- 
tion or prompting of every word, and the sacred writer 
must have been the mere amanuensis or secretary, so 
to speak, of the inspiring influence. Does Dr. Woods 
believe this ? We presume not ; since he allows that 
the inspired writers " use their own style," and only 
maintains that they are ''under such direction," as 
" certainly to be secured against all mistakes." 

The truth is, undeniably, that the act of composition, 
the act of selecting words in a sentence, is as neces- 
sarily free, as much the writer's own act, as the act of 
choosing right from wrong. The very business of 
writing or speaking, therefore, implies all the limita- 
tion we contend for. A man may write, indeed, from 
verbal memory, or from an express dictation of words, 
and this is a different case ; and we deny not that a 
portion of the Scriptures fall under this condition. 
Some of the prophesies, that is, some sentences, may 
have been written from express dictation. A portion 
of the discourses of our Saviour were undoubtedly 
written from an exact remembrance of the words. 
And yet it is easy to see that this recollection often 
extends only to the sense. The words vary ; and it is 
a remark to which we invite particular attention, that 
they vary according to the style of each particular 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 309 

writer. John is repetitious : and the discourses of 
Jesus under his report, though everywhere showing 
the same great and unequalled Master, take some- 
thing of the form of his peculiar style. The introduc- 
tory phrase, "Verily I say unto you," has the adverb 
repeated in John — " Verily, verily, I say unto you."' 
The repetition never occurs in the other evangelists ; 
in John, it is constant and habitual. And in short, if 
any one would understand how strong is the aspect of 
naturalness in all their writings, and of peculiarity in 
each individual writer, Ave would ask him to read the 
writings themselves — not to reason about what must 
be, or ought to be, but to read the writings themselves. 
He would rise from this perusal with an argument 
stronger than we can express, against the doctrine of 
verbal inspiration, or of special guidance in regard to 
the style of writing, and modes of illustration. 

To us it is singular that Dr. Woods admits the 
whole force of this presumption, and yet denies the 
inference. In truth, we know not what he might 
not admit, and yet, with the mode of reasoning he 
adopts, maintain his theory. He might admit, that 
the Bible is full of the evidences of human imperfec- 
tion, that it is full of mistakes in style, in figures, in 
illustration, and yet maintain, to use his cautious 
phraseology, that the Bible is " just what God saw to 
be suited to the ends of revelation." Why, the con- 
clusion is one which we have no difficulty of admitting 
on our own principles. It was best that the commu- 
nication should be left to be made just as it was made. 

But let us see what Dr. Woods does admit ; and we 
must confess, too, our honest surprise at the main and 
leading answer which he makes to his own concessions. 
He admits, what it has been thought so great an 
offence in us to assert, that " the language is completely 



310 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

human." He admits, that " in writing the Scriptures, 
the sacred penmen evidently made use of their own 
faculties ; that "the language employed by the inspired 
writers exhibits no marks of a divine interference, but 
is perfectly conformed to the genius and taste of the 
writers," and that " even the same doctrine is taught, 
and the same event described, in a different manner 
by different writers." And his constant answer is — 
Very well ; why not ? — Why should not the writers 
compose, each one, in his own style and manner? 
Why should they not, indeed, we say ; but is this the 
proper answer to the objection? The objection is, 
that the style is natural, and therefore is not super- 
natural. The answer, admitting as it does the first 
quality, should show how the style can possess the 
other ; or, in other words, how the same style could 
have been formed under influences at the same time 
natural and supernatural. 

Dr. Woods does indeed say, " Is it not evident that 
God may exercise a perfect superintendency over in- 
spired writers as to the language they shall use, and 
yet that each one of them shall write in his own style, 
and in all respects according to his own taste ?" That 
is to say, is it not evident, that the thoughts may be 
perfectly free, and yet in their freedom, be perfectly 
controlled by an influence extraneous and foreign to 
them ? To which we must answer ; No, certainly, it 
is not evident, even if it can be true. If it is evident, 
we w T ish that the Divinity Professor had shown it. We 
wish that he had taken us into that mysterious region, 
and disclosed to us the human mind acting freely under 
a control so absolute as to secure the perfect accuracy 
of its operations ! No man better than Dr. Woods 
knows the way to this region, if there is any, or better 
knows there is no way. 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 311 

Will he, then, approach it by analogies ? Every 
analogy, we think, is fatal to his position. We quote 
a sentence from him, which he introduces in this con- 
nexion, and which, we think, is singularly unfortunate 
for his argument. " The great variety," he says, " ex- 
isting" among men as to their rational talents and their 
peculiar manner of thinking and writing, may, in this 
way, be turned to account in the work of revelation, as 
well as in the concerns of common life." But have 
men any infallible direction in the common concerns 
of life ? Or in the spiritual concerns of the soul, have 
they any? xVnd yet in both, divine aid is promised to 
the faithful, and promised without any limit. Till, 
therefore, some stronger proof is brought than the gen- 
eral promise of aid and guidance in teaching revealed 
truths, we cannot admit, against all the evidence that 
appears on the face of the record, that this guidance 
extended to the very form and phraseology of the com- 
munication. The nature of the action itself furnishes 
a limit. 

" But," it will be said, " this infallible guidance in 
the mode of teaching, is necessary to insure to us a 
sufficient and satisfactory communication." This, we 
cannot doubt, as we have said in a former article, is 
the great difficulty. " Give us a perfect book," we 
believe would be the language of our opponents, " and 
we care not how it was made." But is it right to 
make any a priori demand of this sort? We should 
rather say, " Give us a glorious and unquestionable 
communication, and we are not solicitous as to the 
manner of it." We do say. — " Give us such a com- 
munication as it has pleased God to make, and we 
are satisfied." We would place ourselves reverently 
before the shrine, not to call in question its form, or 
the materials of which it is composed, but to listen to 



312 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

the voice that proceeds from it. We would listen to 
the oracle, not to criticise the tone in which it speaks, 
but to gather the import of what it utters. Let us 
drink of the "waters of life," and we complain not if 
they are brought to us in " earthen vessels." 

But let us hear the objection. Upon the supposition, 
that " as far as language is concerned, the writers were 
left entirely to their own judgment and fidelity," Dr. 
Woods says, " Here," we might say, " Paul was unfor- 
tunate in the choice of words ; and here his language 
does not express the ideas he must have intended to 
convey. Here the style of John was inadvertent ; and 
here it was faulty ; and here it would have been more 
agreeable to the nature of the subject, and would have 
more accurately expressed the truth, had it been altered 
thus." But how seldom should we find occasion to 
say this ! How seldom do we find occasion ! If a 
communication made by human hands, must needs be 
so precarious and uncertain, why does not this skep- 
ticism appear in our commentaries and our contro- 
versies ? Why does it not extend to all other books ? 
Why are we not in constant and grievous uncertainty 
about the meaning of our familiar authors, because 
they have not had the aid of inspiration to form or 
modify their style ? 

Why also do we not find it difficult to distinguish 
between the point which they labour to prove, and the 
illustrations and arguments which they bring to bear 
upon it ? Let any one look into the writings of Paul 
or John, and satisfy himself, as we think he easily may, 
that there is no difficulty whatever in separating what 
he teaches on his apostolic authority, and what he puts 
forth in the shape of argument addressed to the reason 
of his readers. 

The truth is, after all, we are inclined to believe, 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 313 

that the different views taken of this point, arise from 
the different views that are entertained of the substance 
of the communication. If we believed that the New 
Testament contained a fine, extended, philosophical, 
or metaphysical theory, we might be anxious for the 
infallibility of every phrase and word. But even then 
our anxiety would be hypercritical. The works of 
Aristotle and Kant need no such pledge in order to 
satisfy the student that he understands their principles. 
How much less is this pledge necessary to satisfy us 
as to a few great facts, doctrines, and < principles, — all 
practical, all so plain that he " who runs may read," 
all designed for the comprehension of the poor, the 
ignorant, and unlearned ! And how is it possible for 
our opponents, on their principles, to rely as they do, 
on uninspired translations of the sacred text? How 
can they send out imperfect translations and detached 
books of this volume, as they do to the heathen ! Nay, 
if the infallibility of every sentence and word is so 
essential to the validity of the communication, all men 
must be learned, before they can be put in a proper 
condition to receive it. Neither would this help them ; 
for the learned differ as much as others. Infallible 
sentences avail nothing without infallible interpreters; 
and these we cannot have. And while the learned 
thus differ, as they always have and always will, what 
reliance can there be for the body of Christians, but on 
the substance of the communication ; what reliance, in 
fact, that is satisfactory, but upon those views of inspi- 
ration which we maintain ? 

On this subject of the sacred style, we must beg our 
readers to have patience with us a moment longer. We 
have said in a former article, that human language is, 
from its nature, essentially fallible ; and it does appear 
to us, that if this point were fully considered, it would 
27 



314 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 

settle the whole question about infallibility in the xoords 
of this communication. All human language, when 
referring to what is intellectual, to what is spiritual, is 
but an approximation to the truth. Words are con- 
ventional signs of thought. They are not pictures, and 
if they were, they could be pictures only of external 
objects. They are symbols, and they bear no relation 
to our intellectual conceptions, but what they bear by 
common agreement. Now this point we press. Was 
this agreement ever, in any age or country, perfect and 
invariable ? Were there ever two persons, to whom 
words expressive of spiritual qualities — to whom the 
same words, though purporting the same things in 
substance, did not bear different degrees and shades 
of meaning ? How then can the idea of absolute in- 
fallibility be attached to such an instrument of com- 
munication ? 

Suppose, for example, that a revelation were now 
made to us in the English language. It is perfectly 
evident, on the one hand, that so far as the matters of 
that revelation were simple and practical, it would 
convey to us all, substantially the same general ideas. 
Such our Scriptures do convey to all who read them, 
even though they come through the medium of a 
translation ; for it is to be kept in mind, that we have 
only a human translation, and all this question about 
verbal inspiration neither avails nor concerns anybody 
but the learned ; a fact of itself sufficient to show that 
the validity and authority of a revelation designed for 
all nations, cannot depend on verbal inspiration. But 
to return ; — we say, on the one hand, that from an 
inspired communication in our own language, all would 
receive the same general ideas. The substance of the 
communication, if it were an intelligible one, could not 
escape them, on a diligent reading : and this would be 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 315 

sufficient for their moral instruction and improvement. 
But on the other hand, it is equally evident that the 
moment they went into the minutiae of meaning', the 
moment especially that they went into matters of 
speculation, there would be shades of difference in their 
conceptions. For what would they have to do in this 
more particular, definite investigation? They would 
have to become critics. They must resort to their 
dictionaries. And what would they find there ? Some 
Avoids with ten, some twenty, some forty meanings. 
What principle could they possibly adopt, that would 
lead them to an unerring and uniform selection 1 What 
principle would enable them to determine the precise 
shade of thought which one word receives from its 
connexion with another ? There is none ; there never 
has been any to the most honest and faithful inter- 
preters who read the Scriptures in their original lan- 
guages ; and all this solicitude about the perfect verbal 
accuracy, the verbal authority of the Bible, in our 
apprehension, is as useless as it is unphilosophical. 

Let no one say, "The question is not about words. 
Indeed it is about words. It is about the vehicle of 
communication, about style, about the manner of 
writing. The mode of communication is the point in 
debate ; and this includes phraseology, figures, meta- 
phors, illustrations, allegories, arguments. The ques- 
tion is, — Did the inspired teachers take the body of 
divine truth communicated to them, and then faithfully 
indeed, but naturally, humanly, in the free and 
unforced exercise of their own faculties, deliver that 
sacred truth — or, were they so controlled or con- 
strained, or supernaturally guarded, in this work, that 
every sentence they delivered is intrinsically, philo- 
sophically, divinely accurate and infallible ? 

And it is a most important question. To us, at 



316 NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 



least, with our views, it is one of inexpressible interest. 
For it is with such an interest that we cherish our 
belief in the Scriptures as containing a divine revela- 
tion. It is with the deepest solicitude, therefore, that 
we have long pondered this question. The conviction 
has been forced on our minds that we could not, in any 
fairness or impartiality, ascribe to the Scriptures, that 
kind of verbal, illustrative, or logical perfection, which 
by many is claimed for them, and we have felt 
unspeakable relief in the conclusion, that it is not at all 
necessary to their character as authorized records of a 
communication from Heaven. If others entertain a 
different opinion, we complain not — nay, we rejoice for 
them, in this, that they stand "upon the foundation," 
though fencing themselves around with barriers that 
seem to us to be needless. And we hope that they 
will not be very much displeased that toe, too, feel the 
"rock of our salvation" to be strong and secure 
beneath us. 

There may be skeptics, cold or contemptuous 
enough to look with indifference or with scorn upon 
this transcendent, this all-inspiring interest which we 
feel in the spiritual objects, and hopes, and destinies 
of our existence. They may think "this intellectual 
being" too poor a thing to be the subject of such wide 
contemplation, and of such intense and overpowering 
concern. Yet, what avails the feeble hand that would 
repress and bind down the very laws of our nature? 
Still the thought, the feeling, the desire invincible and 
immortal springs within us, and craves its proper, satis- 
fying, soul-sufficing good. No created might on earth 
is like the energy of that inward and undying want; 
no earthly blessing is like that which supplies it; and 
no sigh of human despondency could be so mournful 
as that with which we should sink from the holy light 



NATURE AND EXTENT OF INSPIRATION. 317 

that cheers us. We stand amidst erring creatures, 
ourselves clothed with imperfection and conscious of 
sin, and the vision of perfect truth and perfect beauty 
and saving goodness in the person of Jesus, is " a light 
come into the world" that would otherwise be dark to 
us. We stand amidst shadows and mysteries, amidst 
trials and sufferings ; and the revelation of a gracious 
and pitying Father in Heaven is strength, assurance, 
consolation, which nothing else can give. We stand 
upon "this shore of time" — the beloved, the cherished, 
the hallowed in our sorrows, have gone from us ; and 
the Gospel that bringeth immortality to light, that 
places them in immortal regions, and invites us thither, 
is a message sufficient to bear us in rapture through 
the very shadows of death. Tell us that "God hath 
spoken" all this to us; and we cannot question the 
manner, we cannot be solicitous about the words ; we 
can only "rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of 
glory." 

27* 



ON FAITH, AND JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved : but he that 
believeth not, shall be condemned. — Mark xvi. 16. 

I have translated the last word in the text " con- 
demned " in conformity with the best English versions 
and all the foreign ones, and with the undoubted sense 
of the original ; but the change does not materially 
alter the meaning of the passage. I think it best to 
relieve the text from a word, which, from its association 
with the language of the profane, shocks us : but still 
this passage teaches us undoubtedly, that with faith 
are connected God's favour, and our safety and happi- 
ness ; and with unbelief, condemnation, rejection of 
heaven, and the soul's perdition. What now is to be 
understood by this faith and this unbelief ? And what 
is meant when it is said that the one justifies, and the 
other condemns us ? 

I have no doubt that many persons have been sur- 
prised at the importance given to these acts or states 
of mind, in the New Testament. And certainly it can 
be accounted for only on one supposition. And that 
is, that belief and unbelief in Scripture use, embrace 
in their meaning, essential right and wrong, virtue 
and vice, religion and irreligion. The surprise felt at 
their prominence as the very grounds of salvation and 
perdition, must have arisen from the idea that they are 
mere intellectual or involuntary or mystical states of 
mind. But this is not true. The Scriptures do not 
mean by them, any mystery, nor any mere mental 



JUSTIFICATION EY FAITH. 



319 



assent and dissent. They involve moral qualities. 
True faith is a believing with the heart, a principle 
that works by love. Faith is a feeling. It is a vital 
sense of things divine. It is a state of the heart in 
accordance with the thing believed. In fact, love is 
the very root of it, as it is of every virtue. Faith is but 
the form which the principle of love takes. And 
unbelief is the reverse of all this. It is hatred ; it is 
hatred of truth and holiness. " Because I tell you the 
truth" says our Saviour, " ye believe me not." " There- 
fore they could not believe," it is said again. Why ? 
Because, among other reasons, " their hearts were 
hardened." 

But it is really unnecessary to go into a detailed 
examination of texts on this point, because there is one 
general argument that establishes it beyond all con- 
tradiction. The Bible everywhere demands repentance, 
sanctification, inward purity, as the means of favour 
with God and true happiness. The Bible is a book 
of conditions throughout ; and it amazes us to hear it 
said and preached, that salvation is without conditions ; 
the mere gift of God's mercy, without the doing of any 
thing on our part. But the condition of conditions, is 
a right heart. Does faith mean some other thing ? 
Then the demand of it, contradicts every thing else in 
the Bible. It cannot be. 

But if the thing required be essential, inward, spir- 
itual virtue, why is it called faith? If love be the 
radical principle required, why is not love the thing 
specified ? Why is it not written, " he that loveth shall 
be saved, and he that loveth not, shall be rejected?" 

I answer, that virtually it is written ; actually often, 
virtually always. But it is doubtless true, that the 
prominent form given to saving virtue in the New 
Testament is faith. In the New Testament I say ,* 



320 



ON FAITH, AND 



for it is not so in the Old. There we hear much of 
being upright, beneficent, meek, humble, devout, as 
conditions of acceptance with heaven. But the New 
Testament puts all this most frequently, in the form of 
faith. Why ? i repeat, and I answer, 

First, because now a new dispensation was ushered 
into the world, and a new Teacher presented his 
claims ; and the natural inquiry was, do you believe ? 
The very form of the act of reception, was belief. 

Secondly, belief, and belief avowed by baptism in 
that age of persecution, was the most unequivocal 
evidence of virtue, of piety, of inward and heartfelt 
devotion to the religion. 

Thirdly, the Gospel was a more spiritual dispen- 
sation than that which preceded it ; it insisted more 
upon an unseen and future life ; and the appropriate 
act of the soul by which that future was laid hold of 
and made real, was faith. The thing could not be a 
matter of knowledge, but only of faith. 

These reasons are so obvious that I need not dwell 
upon them. They account, I say, for Christians being 
described as men of faith. What radically distin- 
guished them, was their following of Christ, their like- 
ness to Christ ; but what naturally denominated them, 
in an age of denial, skepticism and persecution, was the 
reception of the new religion, the adherence to it ; 
"these," men would say, "are the believers in this 
new doctrine." 

4. But there is another and more cogent reason, 
growing out of the time, which gave to faith its promi- 
nence. It was an age of reliance on ceremonial ob- 
servances. Alike among the Pagans and the Jews, 
the great body of religious devotees trusted to an exact 
ritual fidelity for acceptance with God. The sacrifices 
duly offered, the times and the seasons all duly 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



321 



observed, and every rite fulfilled ; the votary thought 
himself entitled to acceptance with heaven. Against 
all such shallow and superficial claims, therefore, which 
might leave the heart completely unregenerate and 
unholy — against all such Pharisaical and proud pre- 
tensions, the apostles declared, with great emphasis and 
reiteration, that the means of acceptance with God was 
spiritual and not formal, and especially was a penitent 
and humble reliance on God's mercy through Jesus 
Christ : upon his mercy, i. e. as set forth in the teach- 
ings and sealed in the blood of Christ. It was, 
I say, the demand of an inward and spiritual virtue in 
opposition to an outward and useless formality. Jus- 
tification by faith therefore ; i. e., the being treated as 
if just, or in other words, the being pardoned and 
received to heaven through faith, was the great doc- 
trine of Paul when contending against a world of 
Pagan and Jewish formalists. " Knowing," he says, 
" that a man is not justified by the works of the law, 
i e. of the ceremonial law, but by the faith of Jesus 
Christ, even we have believed in Jesus Christ, that we 
might be justified by the faith of Christ, and not by the 
works of the law ; for by the works of the law, shall 
no flesh be justified." This passage is in the Epistle 
to the Galatians. If you would obtain satisfaction on 
this point, I would request you to read at your leisure, 
the whole Epistle. You will see, I think, that the 
apostle is pleading the argument of faith against the 
Jew's reliance upon his ritual. The argument arose 
upon the conduct of Peter ; upon his timid adherence 
to Jewish rites. Paul pursues this paint ; he keeps him- 
self to it, in the main, I am certain ; and I think, 
entirely. The question is continually about circum- 
cision and the bondage to " the weak and beggarly 
elements of the world." "Ye observe days and 



322 



ON FAITH, AND 



months," he says, " and times and years. I am afraid 
of you, Jest I have bestowed labour on you in vain. 77 
It is true that he often speaks generally of the law, and 
it may be said that he means the whole law of Moses, 
both moral and ceremonial. I have no objection to 
this view, except that it makes the Apostle's reasoning 
less pertinent and cogent. 

5. I have no objection to it, because faith is undoubt- 
edly set forth, in the last place, as opposed to a sense of 
merit founded on a keeping of the moral law. This 
is the great subject of the first eight chapters of the 
Epistle to the Romans. It is the method of justifica- 
tion or of acceptance with God. And this, the Apostle 
declares, is a matter not of merit but of mercy. He 
draws a dark picture of the wickedness of the whole 
world, both Jewish and Gentile, in all ages, and comes 
to this conclusion : " Therefore by the deeds of the law, 
there shall no flesh be justified.*' " Therefore we con- 
clude," he says again, " that a man is justified by faith 
without the deeds of the law." Man cannot stand before 
God, demanding heaven, for his keeping of the moral 
law ; but he must stand there asking heaven, as the 
gift of God's mercy through Jesus Christ. His only 
hope and comfort must come through believing in that 
mercy. Faith is not opposed to purity of heart at all ; 
it is purity of heart ; it springs from a right mind ; it 
w r orks by love ; but it is opposed to a proud claim of 
God's favour and of heaven, set up on the ground of 
complete obedience. 

The last two reasons, I may observe, were those 
which gave to the doctrine of justification by faith, its 
significance and prominence at the time of the Refor- 
mation. The Papal Church had fallen into a perilous 
reliance upon rites, penances and personal merits. 
Luther felt, with bitter pain, that these could not 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



323 



insure to him the favour of heaven ;* and he was led to 
cast himself simply upon the mercy of God in Christ. 
Here he found relief ; and justification by faith there- 
fore, became his great doctrine. But educated amidst 
mysteries and miracles, he was led to conceive that 
this faith had some mysterious power of appropriating- 
the merits of Christ ; and urged on by the enthusiasm 
of this new discovery, and the eagerness of dispute, he 
pushed his idea of faith to the point of derogating 
from good works ; an error which has not yet spent 
itself. 

An error, I say ; for faith embraces in itself the very 
essence of all good works, all good affections. Faith 
is not some mysterious and technical condition of 
salvation. It is simply a Christian grace. It is essen- 
tially a right heart. It is the old, the everlasting, the 
universal condition of happiness and of God's favour 
here and hereafter — a right heart. And this is pre- 
vailingly represented in the New Testament as putting 
itself forth in the act, the form of faith ; first, I repeat, 
because a new dispensation now appeared, and the 
reception of it of course was faith ; secondly, because 
this religion was persecuted, and the most decisive test 
of love to it, was faith avowed — avowed, i. e. in baptism, 
for that was the specific proselyte's ordinance ; thirdly, 
because this religion unfolded a future life, and the 
appropriate act for receiving that doctrine, was faith ; 
fourthly, because the world was full of misguided 
devotees, relying on forms and rites, and the antagonist 
principle was faith, a reliance on God's mercy ; fifthly, 
because the proud assumption of a goodness sufficient 
to claim heaven of right, is ever to be resisted ; and 

* Nor was this the feeling of Luther alone ; but it prevailed to a 
considerable extent in the Catholic Church. See Ranke's History 
of the Popes : Book II. 



324 



ON FAITH, AND 



that which stands in contradiction to it, is faith ; a 
penitent seeking for pardon and a reliance on that 
infinite compassion, of which Christ is the great reve- 
lation and pledge, the minister and the mercy-seat, the 
priest and the altar. 

The essence, then, and the efficacy of faith, lie in 
the goodness, the love which is in it. This, I know, 
is denied. There is nothing which Calvin and his 
school more vehemently repudiate, than the idea that 
there is any worth or worthiness in faith, affording a 
reason for its being accepted of God, as the condition 
of his favour. It is maintained, on the contrary, that 
faith is a mere arbitrary condition. But what right 
has any one to say this ? Where, in the Scriptures, is 
it said that faith, as a passport to heaven, is regarded 
without any reference to the virtue that is in it 7 
Nowhere. Where, then, is it implied ? Here is the 
point, I conceive, at which mistake has arisen. It is 
thought to be implied in those passages, which oppose 
faith to works. The mistake has arisen from failing 
to observe, that it is the claimed merit in those works 
which is opposed, and not the real virtue. " Do we 
then make void, the law through faith ?" says Paul. 
"God forbid. Yea, we establish the law." "The 
righteousness of the law is fulfilled in us, who walk 
not after the flesh, but after the spirit." 

Justification by faith, then, is no unreasonable doc- 
trine nor confounding mystery. It may be all made 
very plain by a simple comparison. You have given 
certain commands to your child, let us suppose, and 
you have promised certain rewards to obedience. The 
child has disobeyed. How, then, can he obtain the 
forfeited rewards? Evidently, if at all, it must be 
through your free grace and not through his merit. 
But what condition will you naturally and necessarily 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



325 



appoint for his recovery of the lost blessings ? He must 
repent, you will say ; he must penitently believe in, 
i. e., receive the offered mercy. Without his believing 
in this mercy, and thus rejecting all just right to it, it 
is morally impossible that he should receive it. 

Let us now add another consideration to make the 
comparison complete. The child, let us suppose, is 
obstinate and refuses to repent and believe. At this 
juncture, one of his brothers interposes and attempts 
the work of his recovery. With many labours and 
sacrifices, which wear upon his health, and at length 
bring him to the grave, he pleads and strives with the 
guilty one to return ; or while engaged in the work, he 
innocently comes into collision with the laws of the 
country, and he dies a sacrifice for his brother. With 
all this, let us suppose, that the heart of the erring 
child is touched. He repents. With faith in the 
offered mercy, he comes and humbly asks that it may 
be bestowed upon him. What now is the character of 
this faith ? It has taken, you perceive, a new element. 
It is faith in his brother's sacrifice. It is faith in his 
father's mercy, through that martyred brother. And 
this faith, it is evident, proceeds out of a changed heart. 
It is the very form which, in the circumstances, a 
changed heart naturally takes. 

This, I believe, is the simple ground of that, which 
is often construed in so strange a manner, — Gospel 
acceptance. The representation of it by Christ and 
his Apostles, we should consider, grew out of circum- 
stances and states of mind existing at that time. Thus, 
when our Saviour appeared, he came as Messiah. 
Would the Jews receive him as such ? This was the 
great question to them. This was the special burthen 
of the time, that was pressed upon the Jewish con- 
science. Therefore, our Saviour says, " This is the 
28 



326 



ON FAITHj AND 



work of God, that ye believe on him whom he hath 
sent. That is, reverence for God, the love of God, 
would certainly manifest itself in this way. Thus 
again, Paul had to contend with self-justifying votaries, 
who claimed heaven on the ground of their ceremonies 
or merits. He takes them on their favourite ground, 
justification. He takes up their very word. He shows 
them that they cannot be justified in the way they 
propose. And, still using their word, though in strict- 
ness it cannot be applied to any human creature, he 
tells them that the only justification possible, is of 
another kind ; a gratuitous one, being treated as if 
just ; and this, through faith in God's mercy. The 
word, I say, as a representation of acceptance with God, 
is extremely figurative. Justification for us, sinners I 
Justification before God ! The word almost shocks us. 
Literally it can have no application to us whatever. 
Only figuratively, and indeed as a violent figure, can 
it be tolerated for a moment. And the Apostle never 
would have adopted such a word, if circumstances had 
not pressed it upon him. But this figure adopted, Paul 
is naturally led to surround it w T ith many figurative 
illustrations drawn from the relations of debtor and 
creditor, principal and surety, slave and freeman ; and 
upon these figures has been built up a vast system of 
theology, of which, constructed no doubt with honest 
intent, I do not wish to say any thing more harsh, than 
that it seems to me an unsightly incumbrance upon 
the fair foundations of Christianity. The simple truth 
at the bottom of all, is this : the good man, continuing 
such, is happy, and blessed, and shall be forever — not 
as a matter of merit, but through the mercy of God, 
revealed in Jesus Christ : the bad man, while such, is 
miserable and ruined, and that without remedy. 
I have thus attempted to make it appear that faith, 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



327 



being but the Christian form of essential goodness, is 
the reasonable condition of happiness and God's fa- 
vour, and that the want of faith, reasonably draws upon 
it the forfeiture of all this. Let me now occupy the re- 
mainder of this discourse with some distinct illustration 
of the natural place which faith holds in the system 
of religious efforts and influences, for I conceive that 
there is a significance in the scripture demand for faith, 
beyond what is ordinarily seen ; not only a pertinence 
in the word, in the form, but a significance in the 
thing. 

Let me explain this view, before I proceed to make 
it the ground of some more practical consideration. 
Of all true excellence, then, love is the root, the pri- 
mal form, the comprehensive character. God is love, 
not faith. Faith is an attribute of imperfect natures. 
But now, in such natures, what place does faith hold '1 
I answer, that of the most immediate motive power. 
I cannot act, as an intellectual and moral being, with- 
out faith ; i. e. without conviction. I cannot obey 
God unless I believe in him. I cannot follow Christ, 
unless I believe in him. I cannot yield to the influ- 
ence of any truth, unless I believe in it. I cannot care 
for the soul, my own or another's, unless I believe in 
the souL I cannot resist temptation, unless I believe 
in virtue and purity. I cannot live in hope of immor- 
tality, unless I believe in a future life. The immediate 
motive power then is faith. 

Faith, if I may say so, stands between love and 
works. To draw a comparison from the mill that 
grinds corn ; love is the stream, faith is the water- 
wheel, good works are the product. Thus faith works 
by love, and purines the soul — purifies the life. And the 
result is certain ; it is involved in the principle that 
produces it. Thus when St. Paul says that men are 



328 



ON FAITH, AND 



saved by faith, and St. James, that they are saved by 
works, both mean the same thing : the one speaks of 
the necessary impulse, the other of the inevitable act 
that follows. 

From all this then it appears that the immediate, 
manifest, practical obstacle to our salvation, appears in 
the form of unbelief. Let us consider for a few 
moments in this serious light, this great evil of 
unbelief. 

The divine goodness has provided a vast array of 
means for our recovery from sin, and growth in virtue 
and piety. Why are they attended with so little effect ? 
What is it that thwarts heaven's great design ? It is 
unbelief. 

Let us enter into this matter a little. Religion is 
not a subject that we pass by altogether. We suffer 
it to speak to us. We assemble ourselves to listen. 
It is a solemn occasion. If it is a light or formal thing 
to any one here, I must tell him that it is not so to 
me. This weekly assembling together, is to me a 
momentous fact in life. Religion, invested with the 
grandeur of heaven, speaks to us ; and how ? As a 
reasonable claim, as a sovereign authority, as a mo- 
mentous interest, as an all-sufficing good. The 
preacher discourses upon all these things. He speaks 
of the blessedness and glory of a sacred virtue. He 
holds up a grand and sublime spirituality, a divine, 
inward sufficiency as reigning over all other distinc- 
tions, all other advantages, all other joys. He teaches 
every man that he may walk in the divinest purity 
and gladness, and in the noblest independence, not 
only of other men, but of his own base passions. He 
shows him, that the walk of daily life, strewed with 
virtues, may be brighter than the starry pathways of 
heaven. Oh ! what a blessed thing were it, if when 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



329 



the hearer leaves the threshold of the Church, he should 
enter upon that glorious course ! Why does he not? 
This stupendous truth of the Gospel message — great 
enough to revolutionize the world, to renovate society, 
to regenerate the heart, to fill the man with the very 
light and joy of heaven— why does it avail him so 
little ? Because, verily he does not believe it ! Because 
he has no inward sense of things divine and immortal, 
that makes it all a reality. An evil heart of unbelief 
it is, that spreads mist and darkness, doubt and indif- 
ference over the whole glorious theme. 

But again, what is to penetrate and scatter this 
cloud of unbelief? It is attention ; fixed, piercing 
thought and devoted meditation. This, by the law of 
our nature, and by every law of the Gospel, is the 
grand means of impression. Why does not every man 
give this attention ? Why does not every man say, 
" I will think and read ; I will consider ; I will pray ; 
I will earnestly seek the great blessing of the beati- 
tudes ?" Again, I say, because he does not believe in 
the thing thus urged upon his attention. Ah ! no ; 
men do not believe in being good. We hear much of 
the great and distant things they do not believe in. 
They do not believe in heaven, nor hell, nor eternity. 
I would that they believed in being good ! 

There is a worldly nonchalance about this matter 
of religion, most painful, most discouraging to witness. 
In this deepest concern of their nature, men suffer them- 
selves to be governed by every sort of worldly policy; 
by the wishes of friends, by the fashions of society, by 
the vainest and idlest considerations. Religion ! — . 
what in the world, is so cast aside among the things of 
convenience and favour and fashion and utter folly ? 
Yes, religion is, as it were, foolishness to multitudes. 
They do not feel its serious import. They do not 
28* 



330 



ON FAITH, AND 



believe in it. Business they believe in. Pleasure they 
believe in. Houses and lands, luxuries and honours, 
they believe in. On these points they are decided 
enough. Present a chance for acquisition of property ; 
and though it be necessary to take a distant journey, 
or to spend all day and all night at the ware-house, or 
to peril health, and yet — let family and children 
and society and the world say what they will — yet 
they will do it ; they must do it. They take a firm 
stand and a decided step. It is a serious interest, and 
they must attend to it. But religion ! — why, it is 
somebody 's notion ! That is their account of it. 
Religion ! — it seems as if the very substance of the 
thing dissolved away into nothing ; as if the letters that 
compose the word, lost their coherence, and sunk away 
like fading points of light in a thickening mist. How 
can men be fixed and resolute about a thing seen in 
that way ! They cannot. And so a man says, with 
an air of oracular wisdom, " It is no small thing to take 
a decided stand in the matter ! n or, " It is no small 
thing to take a decided stand in an unpopular cause or 
communion P Oh ! heaven, why does he not feel that 
conscience is no small thing ; that his spiritual im- 
provement is no small thing ; but is the infinite thing? 
Because, he does not believe in that conscience ; he 
does not feel in himself, how priceless that spiritual 
improvement is. 

And thus again the reason why he does not put forth 
that deepest act of all — the solemn and determined 
effort to be good and pure — why he does not work out 
his own salvation; the reason, I say, is, that in this 
depth of the heart where all human power lies, there 
are no living springs of faith. All is cold and barren 
there. That which should be the deepest soil from 
which fair and heavenly graces spring, is a dead lump 



JUSTIFICATION BY FAITH. 



331 



of obstinate unbelief and indifference. The spirit of 
God never breathes upon that sterile spot. It is closed 
and barred up against the sacred influence, by pride 
and vanity, by cares and pleasures, by ambition and 
gain. And the worldly man chooses it should be so. 
There is no faith in him to make him think that there 
is any thing better. And so every thing that might 
help him, is resisted ; the pleading of truth, the demand 
for attention, the call to effort. 

If now it be asked, in fine, what good end is to be 
served, by saying and showing all this ? I answer, 
first, that it vindicates the Gospel demand for faith as 
pertinent and reasonable. This is already sufficiently 
apparent. But I answer, further, that it shows the 
defect, the fault to be in us, and not in the motives 
which religion itself proposes. There is power enough 
in religion to save us, — God ever helping it, — if we 
would let it work within us. It is sufficient to make 
us happy and blessed, if we would give it a trial. No 
man ever truly gave it a trial and denied its power. 
Yes, it is all true — that which we profess to believe, 
and do not believe. It is as true, as if the whole horizon 
around us and the whole heaven above us, were filled 
with shapes, with pictures of the solemn and glorious 
verities of our faith. It is as true that sin in the heart 
will eat and canker, poison and destroy, as if a man 
could lay his finger upon the very spot where this 
awful work is going on. It is as true that the good deed 
is a glorious and blessed thing, as if when it is done, a 
halo of heavenly light should instantly surround it. 
It is as true, that penitence, purity, humility, goodness, 
self-sacrifice, in the heart, is the divinest joy and glory, 
as if all the treasures and splendours of the universe 
drew near and gathered around, to pay it homage. 
The faith of the heart is a stronger assurance than all 



332 



ON FAITH, ETC. 



the visions of the outward sense. When fortune smiles 
around me, I may think that I am happy ; when sanctity 
and love breathe within me, I know it. And therefore 
it is certain and it is evident, that he who believeth 
shall be saved, shall be blessed in God and in the love 
of God ; and that he who believeth not, must fail of 
the infinite blessing, the only blessing, the blessing of 
the beatitudes ! 



THAT ERRORS IN THEOLOGY 
HA YE SPRUNG FROM FALSE PRINCIPLES 
OF REASONING. 



" O Timothy, keep that which is committed to thy trust ; avoiding 
profane and vain babbli?igs and oppositions of science falsely 
so called (i. e., vain disputes about words, and scholastic sub- 
tilties ;) " which some professing, have erred concerning the 
faith."— 1 Timothy, vi. 20, 21. 

That errors in theology have sprung from false 
principles of reasoning, is the hint in the text, from 
which I shall draw the subject of my present dis- 
course. It is a large theme ; it will lead me to con- 
sider some important departments of theology ; and I 
must bespeak your patience. 

If I were called upon to say on what subject the 
greatest errors had prevailed among mankind, I should 
answer, undoubtedly on that of religion. In this I 
suppose all thinking men are agreed. Paganism, for 
example, has embodied more enormous errors than 
ever were found in philosophy. To place the earth, 
for instance, at the centre of the solar system, is a small 
mistake compared with setting up a hideous idol to 
represent the living God, or with sacrificing human 
victims to that idol. No delusions so mournful have 
ever overspread the world as those on dernonology and 
witchcraft, the Inquisition, the purchased absolution 



334 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



of sins, and the unchallenged supremacy of the spirit- 
ual power. 

If, again, I were called upon to say, from what sub- 
ject, error would most slowly disappear, I should still 
answer, from that of religion ; aud for this simple and 
sufficient reason, that on no subject have men's minds 
so little freedom. Emancipation from error is always 
achieved by free and courageous inquiry ; but the arm 
that is stretched out into the spiritual realm, is para- 
lyzed by fear. To tell men that they dare not think 
freely on religion, would provoke, it is very likely, a 
hasty denial. But the very conditions of all past re- 
ligious investigation, involve this inevitable conse- 
quence. Can men think freely, under peril of eternal 
perdition for erring in their thought ? Can they freely 
examine the c aims of a revered church, or the tenets 
of an exclusive orthodoxy, which says, " every step of 
departure from me, is a step out of the only pale of 
safety ?" It is clearly impossible. And therefore it is 
not to be thought surprising, if the religion of the world 
has been and is involved in deeper error, than any 
other subject of its thought. There have been dark 
ages in science ; but there have been darker ages 
in religion. From science the darkness has passed 
away. Has it passed away from religion ? 

This leads me to another observation. While there 
has been a grand reform in science, a revision of the 
theories of the dark ages, there has been no similar 
reform, on a great scale, in religion. Lord Bacon led 
the reform in science ; but there has been no Lord 
Bacon in religion. Luther was not a reformer of that 
cast. No deep and philosophical inquiry, but only an 
earnest and effectual protest against religious domina- 
tion, was his mission. Some freedom for religion he 
gained ; some partial change in doctrine he effected ; 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 335 



but there was no free and thorough investigation of 
the nature of religion in his time. A political, not a 
doctrinal reformation was the great change which he 
accomplished. 

I say there has been no Lord Bacon in religion, no 
novum orgamim religionis. And this I say without 
any prejudice to the eminent persons who, within 
the last three centuries, have attempted to reform the 
religion of their age. It is easy to see that even with 
equal merit, they could not have equal success. If a 
new discovery be made in chemistry or astronomy, all 
the world is comparatively ready to receive it. But 
let a new proposition be brought forward in religion, 
and not only is it less susceptible, from its very nature, 
of demonstration, but a host of prejudices and fears is 
arrayed against it. Science, it is true, has sometimes 
met with a hard fate in the world ; but religion has 
never met with any other. One Galileo has been im- 
prisoned ; but ten thousands of heretics have been cast 
into dungeons, there to waste away the slow, forgotten 
years ; unless, as has been common, the malice of 
their persecutors demanded the infliction and the sight 
of sharper agonies. Little chance was there for free 
thought to advance under such auspices ; and little 
has it advanced, even till now. 

In fact, has the true method of inquiry ever yet been 
fairly introduced, into the prevalent theology of Chris- 
tendom 1 Rejecting all presumptuous and precon- 
ceived theories, Lord Bacon proposed to enter the field 
of nature, and to ask what are the facts, and then 
upon this basis, to build up the true theory. But in 
theology, a totally opposite method, i. e. the old schol- 
astic method, has been pursued. Theories have taken 
precedence of facts, not facts of theories. What are 
our modern creeds but theories? What are the Thirty- 



336 ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



nine Articles, and the Westminster Catechism, and the 
Augsburg Confession, but theories of religion ? I do 
not deny that theories have their place in philosophy, 
and might have in religion ; i. e. as mere hypotheses to 
explain the facts. Only as mere suppositions are they 
philosophically safe. But what are they in religion ? 
Minatory creeds, catechisms for children. I pray you 
to conceive of it. Theories in philosophy have been 
held to be perilous enough — bars to progress ; but on 
what other subject besides theology were theories ever 
taught to children? Nay, more, not only do modern 
creeds and catechisms thus forestall our decisions, but 
the Bible itself is placed in a position which is hostile 
to the true, philosophical, inductive method of inquiry. 
The Bible is regarded not merely as throwing the 
light of teaching and interpretation upon the paths of 
our religious inquiries, but as the only source of light; 
not merely as illustrating the facts of religious experi- 
ence, but as furnishing all the facts ; not merely as a 
guide in the field of investigation, but as the field too. 
The theologian sits down to the reading of the Scrip- 
tures, disdaining, repudiating, abhorring all philoso- 
phical explanation from without. His aim, he says, 
is a single one. He boasts that he takes the sentences 
of holy writ just as they are ; that he explains each 
sentence by itself — not even admitting any " analogy 
of faith " to guide him ; that one text for a doctrine is 
as good as a thousand ; and, in fine, that his nature, 
his reason, his conscience, are to bow down and to be 
as nothing, in the presence of this record. This is the 
very chivalry of theology ; to make of the man, the 
inquirer, nothing ; and of the matter to be inquired 
into, every thing. 

But let us consider more particularly, for a moment, 
what is the true method of inquiry. It is to study 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 337 

facts in religion as we study facts in nature ; and upon 
them to build up our system of doctrine. It is to hold 
theory in strict subjection to facts. Theory, hypothe- 
sis, has its place in philosophy ; — but what place ? 
That, I repeat, of mere supposition ; liable always to be 
modified by the facts. It is natural for us to seek ex- 
planation ; i. e., to frame a general scheme or plan of 
thought or belief, under which the known facts may 
arrange themselves, and by which they may be ac- 
counted for. Thus there have been theories in geo- 
logy ; one, for instance, which explained the structure 
and condition of the earth by the action of fire ; an- 
other, by the action of water. But what rational 
geologist ever reasoned as if his theory were to govern 
the facts ? So in the study generally, whether of na- 
ture or of the mind. What true philosopher makes it 
his business to bend the facts to his theory, or, when 
some new and hostile fact is presented, permits him- 
self to say, " that is opposed to one of my five points, 
or of my thirty-nine articles, and therefore it cannot 
be ; nay, the assertion of it shall be punished as here- 
sy ?" Or, when some irreconcileable contradiction of 
ideas is charged upon his theory, what philosopher is 
permitted to say, "Ah! that is a mystery ; and it is 
only your proud reason that resists ; which God will 
confound !" But is the true method one thing in phi- 
losophy, and another in religion ? That is the grand, 
fatal, false, unphilosophical presumption on which most 
religious argument has proceeded ; that the ordinary, 
philosophical method of reasoning may not be applied 
to religion. And the whole weight of church power for 
ages has been brought to crush down facts beneath 
theories, and simple inquiry beneath authoritative 
creeds. And every martyr's stake, and fire, and blood, 
have been witnesses to that stupendous perversion. 
29 



338 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



For this is no matter of mere speculation. Religious 
freedom, freedom to think on religion — this highest 
blessing on earth — has paid the dearest price. No- 
thing on earth has cost such pain. It has brought not 
peace, but a sword. Its baptism has been, not in joy, 
but in agony. Its keen and piercing eye has looked 
out into the world, has looked out to eternity, be- 
neath bloody brows, and from eye-lids seared with 
fire. " I have experiences," says the confessor, " con- 
victions, facts, texts, that do not agree with your theo- 
ry, your creed." " Go," has been the answer, " go and 
tell us if you can see them through the living flame ! 
Or go and brood over them in the loneliness of uni- 
versal desertion and obloquy !" 

But where now, let us ask again, are the religious 
facts to be found and studied ? I answer, in human 
nature, and in the Bible ; not in one alone, but in both. 
Nay more ; the relation between these two sources of 
knowledge is such that human nature and experience 
must interpret the book. " The Bible, the Bible " — 
be it our religion ; but the Bible as against theories, 
creeds, traditions, all coercive, combined power; not as 
against individual human experience ; not as distinct 
from that experience. 

Consider, whether to make it so, be not fatal alike 
to every claim, whether of Scripture or reason. The 
Bible is predicated upon human experience, is based 
upon it, addresses that experience, adopts its very lan- 
guage, uses words which could have no meaning at 
all, unless their interpretation were found in the human 
heart. The Bible, we say, is a revelation concerning 
God's nature and man's duty. But it could be no re- 
velation at all. to a race which had no ideas of that 
nature and that duty. Yfhen it said to man, "Be 
pure, humble, upright, good," it went upon the pre- 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 339 

sumption that he had already some sense and experi- 
ence of these qualities ; else it had been as words to 
the deaf. Its intent was to elevate this experience, 
not to supersede it. To set it aside, to fling it out of 
the account, were suicidal, fatal to the end, subversive 
of all just principles of reasoning. 

Suppose that a revelation were given concerning 
nature without us. To interpret the revelation, should 
we not be obliged to consult nature, and to give it a 
fair hearing. Should we say, " It is a coarse, material 
clod, and before the divine light of revelation, it is as 
nothing ; not worth listening to ?" And if the facts of 
nature seemed to conflict with the words of the Book, 
should we not say, "The discrepancy must be removed, 
by some new understanding of the facts, or better in- 
terpretion of the words ?" And if the facts, after all 
inquiry, stood open, unquestionable, irrefragable, against 
our interpretation, should we not feel that the interpre- 
tation must inevitably give way ? 

And so with regard to the Bible and the facts of 
human nature ; is it to nullify those facts ? Was it 
intended to foreclose and seal up all other sources of 
spiritual knowledge ? Is the Bible to stand by itself, 
apart and alone ; and are its declarations to be inter- 
preted without any aid of human experience ? If so, 
I pray to be told what interpreting means. I interpret 
what I do not know, by what I do know. I interpret 
the book without me, by the reason, conscience, expe- 
rience within me. It is not possible for me to do 
otherwise. Is it said that divine aid is to be sought, 
to assist our reason and conscience ? It is true. But 
what is meant by aiding any faculty ? To supersede, 
discard, deny it— is that aiding it ? 

No, the Bible is to throw light on human nature, not to 
blot it out or to treat it as if it were a blot or a blank, 



340 ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



or a mass of darkness. It is to elicit those truths that 
lie deep in humanity, and not to cast it aside as having 
no truth in it. It is kindly and generously to cultivate 
the soul, and not to crush it down to ignominy and 
despair. Nay more, if there is or seems to be, any 
certain fact in human nature, the interpreter is to 
pause upon that fact, and to take care how he explains 
any thing against it. If it be a fact, established and 
sure, nothing in the record of truth can be against it. 
The theologian, for a while, stood against the facts of 
science, the science of astronomy, the true theory of 
the solar system ; but he found at length, that rolling 
of worlds would not obey the laws of criticism, and 
criticism was obliged to yield. And so against the fact 
of moral freedom in man, he has held dogmas and 
theories, but he will find that those dogmas and theo- 
ries must give way. And thus also, if there be any 
thing in his constructions of the Trinity, the atone- 
ment or of human depravity, which directly conflict 
with unquestionable facts in the mind, he may be sure 
that those constructions must share the same fate. 

Let us now proceed to carry these principles into a 
brief survey of certain questions in Theology. 

The first question to which I shall invite your atten- 
tion is that which has been so long agitated concerning 
the nature of God ; the question, that is to say, whether 
God exists in Trinity or in Unity ; or whether Trinity 
and Unity, as held in Theology, are compatible with 
each other. 

To proceed inductively with this inquiry, to proceed 
on the ground of knowledge and not of presumption, 
w T e should ask for the revelation of God first, in our 
own minds ; secondly, in nature ; and, thirdly, in Scrip- 
ture. Now from each of these we gain the conviction 
that God is one. And when we say he is one, we 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 341 



mean that he is one self-conscious Agent, one and the 
self-same Creator, Sustainer and Benefactor, the living 
and the only living and true God. We mean this, or 
we mean nothing that is intelligible in the case. There 
are different kinds of Unity. There is a unity of plan, 
of powers, of principles. That is one thing. But when 
we speak of unity in a being, we mean that he is self- 
conscious ; conscious that he is himself and no other. 
The being that can say, " I," cannot turn to another 
and say " you," and yet mean himself. Now it is in 
this sense, if we ascribe personality to God, that we 
must say, he is one. 

But may not this unity admit of some kind of modi- 
fication ? May we not conceive of God as one in one 
sense, and three in another? Certainly we may : and 
not only as three but as more than three. As many 
attributes, as many modes of action as he has, may he 
be in this sense, more than one. But can we conceive 
him to be one and three in such a sense, as to lay a 
foundation for the application of the personal pronouns, 
I, thou, he : so that one portion of his being can say to 
another portion of his being, " I send you," or, " I com- 
mission you to send forth him ?" This I am obliged by 
the very principles of my mind, of my nature, to deny. 
It is inconceivable and incredible, because it involves 
an inevitable contradiction of ideas. It is not some- 
thing which we refuse to believe because it is myste- 
rious, but which we cannot believe because it is impos- 
sible. There is no possible conception of an intelligent, 
and conscious being, which will permit him to com- 
mission or to send himself, to do that, which he himself 
does not do. You see that the very language in which 
such a proposition is announced, creates an inextricable 
confusion and contradiction of thought. 

But observe now, that this is the Trinity that is taught 
29* 



342 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



to us and urged upon our faith. The question is not 
whether God may exist in some triuned form ; a 
question abstractly of no interest to us ; but whether 
he exists in that relation of Father, Son and Spirit, 
which is recognized in the prevailing creeds. These 
three, according to those creeds, devised a scheme of 
redemption in heaven. They assumed different offices, 
acted different parts in its accomplishment. The 
Father sent the Son on this mission. The Holy Spirit 
followed to make it effectual. Here are represented 
three beings. Suppose it were said that they held 
" sweet and ineffable society together." This was said 
in a former age : it was the theme of many pious rap- 
tures. The idea is now discarded, because it is found 
to be at variance with the Unity. But the scruple, it 
appears to me, is unnecessary. Three persons, of 
whom one can send another, and the third can go forth 
to accomplish their design, are as truly three beings, 
as if they had friendship and held converse with each 
other. 

It pains my reverence for things sacred, to speak 
with this freedom of the nature of the Infinite Being. 
But I am driven into it by the exigencies of this argu- 
ment. And I must be permitted also to say, that I do 
not feel myself to be speaking so much of the divine 
nature, as of the conceptions which men entertain of 
it. And I must press you to consider that these are the 
prevailing conceptions of the Trinity. It will not do for 
any one to shrink back or to withdraw this subject into 
the shadows of obscurity and mysticism, and to say, " I 
do not profess to understand it ; doubtless it is a mys- 
tery; all that I know is, that so I am taught, and so I 
believe." Nay, I reply, but you do profess to under- 
stand it to this extent ; that you have distinct concep- 
tions of the three distinct persons ; and so distinct are 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 343 



these persons of the Trinity in your idea of them, that 
no power of human reason or imagination can make 
them one being. 

Nor with the Bible in your hands, can you blend 
this distinctness into confusion. The Son, sent into 
the world by the Father ; the Son united to humanity, 
and thus constituting a peculiar person, God-man, 
and in this character labouring and suffering to work 
out our salvation : the Son, I say, offering a sacrifice 
on earth to the Father in heaven, is a distinct actor, a 
distinct being to your thought, nor can you conceive 
of him otherwise. And this conception, I say, which 
you cannot help, is fatal to the Unity. 

Let the believer in the Trinity bear with me ; for I 
mean him no disrespect. He will say that he does 
believe both in the Trinity and Unity. Let us in this 
matter, look beneath words for one moment. When 
he thinks at one time of the Father as God, and at 
another of the Son as God, and at another of the Holy 
Spirit as God ; he is not necessarily a Trinitarian. 
At no one of these times, probably, does he think of 
more than one of these persons as God. So the Swe- 
denborgian worships Jesus Christ as God, and as the 
only God; and he is a Unitarian. Again, when he 
conceives of the one only, self-conscious, Infinite Being, 
as manifesting himself now in the Father, now in the 
Son, and now in the Holy Ghost, he is not a Trinita- 
rian but a Sabellian. And when he says in his prayer, 
" O holy, adorable and ever-blessed Trinity," still is 
he not worshipping a name, rather than what the 
Trinity means in theology ? Could he pray in this 
manner ? "O Father, Christ, and Holy Ghost, I im- 
plore each of you to help me ; I pray Thee, Christ, to 
intercede for me ; Thee, Father, to pardon me, and Thee, 
Holy Ghost, to apply the benefits of redemption to my 



344 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



soul. I beseech you to combine your respective coun- 
sels and to employ your respective interpositions for my 
relief." This would be a prayer in accordance with 
dogmatic Trinitarianism ; but I believe that such a 
prayer has seldom or never been offered in the world. 

The dogma of the Trinity, I say, destroys every 
kind of unity that can be conceived of in an intelligent 
being. And if it does, I maintain that it must be given 
up. We cannot believe in an essential contradiction. 
Here stands a fact in the mind, which, like a fact in 
nature, like the order of the solar system, is not to be 
set aside by any interpretation. That three self-con- 
scious persons are one and the same self-conscious 
Being, we cannot believe. Once it was held that 
absurdity is no bar to faith ; nay, " the greater the 
absurdity the greater the faith :" this was the hardness 
of the old Theology. But philosophy has been slowly 
wresting from theology the admission, that absurdity 
is essentially incredible. 

An attempt, indeed, has been made to show that wc 
can believe in such a contradiction, by alleging that 
there are similar contradictions in science. But the 
instances cited, as might be anticipated, fall under the 
head of mysteries, not absurdities. There are para- 
doxes ; i. e. there are ideas, there are pure mathemati- 
cal calculations, which, when applied to matter, in- 
volve us in inextricable confusion of thought : but it 
is a new thing to say, that there are " irreconcilable 
contradictions " in science. The strongest instance of 
the sort is taken from the infinite divisibility of matter. 
A world and a grain of sand are infinitely divisible ; 
i. e. they can be divided into an infinite number of 
parts. But infinites are equal. Therefore the world 
and the grain are of equal size. Nay, why stop here? 
Therefore both the world and the grain of sand are in- 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 345 

finite ; for that which consists of an infinite number of 
parts, must be infinitely large. Infinites ! infinites ! 
is the obscurity which rests upon that which has no 
limits, to blind us to a plain and palpable contradiction, 
presented to us by human minds, within the confines 
of a human creed ?* 

Presented to us, I say, by human minds ; for I deny 
that any such doctrine is presented to us by the divine 
Mind. In other words, we deny, with the utmost 
strength of conviction, that the doctrine of the Trinity 
is taught in the Scriptures. 

With regard to the argument from the Scriptures, it 
will not be expected in a discourse of this nature, that 
I should enter upon it. I will only make two brief 
observations, in consonance with the views upon which 
I am insisting. 

When we take up the New Testament, we immedi- 
ately begin to read of Jesus. He is the great subject 
of the book. He is a child ; he is a youth ; he grows 
up to maturity ; he teaches the people ; he is the most 
devout and pure of all that ever dwelt on earth ; he 
lives ; he dies ; he ascends to heaven — " to his Father 
and our Father, to his God and our God." Now had 
not the early Platonizing fathers introduced among 
the subtilties of their philosophy, the doctrine of the 
Trinity ; had we, in these more enlightened times, 
never heard of the Trinity ; had Ave been left simply 
to take the impression of the New Testament just as it 
is ; I suppose nothing could have equalled the amaze- 
ment with which we should have heard it asserted} 
that this Jesus was God ; the very God who sent him 

* It is as if, because matter is infinitely divisible, we were requir- 
ed to believe that a world and a grain of sand are of equal size ; or 
to state the parallel more exactly — since there can be but one infi- 
nite — that both the world and the grain of sand are one and the 
same identical substance. 



346 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



into the world ; the Creator of the very earth on which 
he walked, of the very men who put him to death ! 

My second observation I wish to preface with a sin- 
gle remark. It is this : we are to arrive at the mean- 
ing of the Evangelists and Apostles through their lan- 
guage ; just as we are to come at the meaning of any 
other writers through their language. Inspiration did 
not change the natural style of those men ; for each one 
has his own. This, among the learned, is now gene- 
rally admitted. My observation, then, is to the follow- 
ing effect : that is to say, I will take the biography of 
any great man that has lived, and I will draiv f rom 
it the same kind of evidence for his divinity, as that 
on which the Trinitarian relies in proof of the Deity 
of Jesus. " He shall be supreme and alone in the 
love and confidence " of the people, is a language ap- 
plied to a statesman of our own. Had these identical 
words been found in the New Testament, applied to 
Christ, how certainly would they have been quoted in 
support of his divine claims ! " Supreme and alone 
in men's love and confidence ?" That is the very de- 
scription of what is due to God. Again, in a notice of 
the celebrated Mr. Pitt, occurs the following language : 
" The penetration of his mind was sagacious, was in- 
finite. His history is the history of civilized nations ; 
as his counsels influenced and directed every movement 
in every corner of the habitable globe." A penetration 
that was infinite ; an influence that ruled the habita- 
ble world ! Do the proof texts of the Trinitarian ar- 
gument contain stronger phraseology than this ? And 
what does all this prove ? Why, that the Trinitarian 
constructions are forbidden by all just criticism. And 
I do surely and solemnly aver — indeed the case is too 
plain to admit of any doubt — that he who rejects this 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 347 

conclusion, does so because he holds that the Bible is 
not to be interpreted as other books are. 

I cannot refrain from one further observation upon 
the Scriptures, to show that this rule of interpretation, 
and the conclusion, too, are strictly and expressly sus- 
tained by a rule of Bible criticism upon the Bible it- 
self. Recollect that the Trinitarian hypothesis sets 
forth that the Messiahship of Jesus was a laying aside 
of his God-like dignity, and that, on this account, he 
is represented as inferior. We should expect, then, 
that when he had accomplished this work, he would 
re-assume his supreme grandeur. Listen, then, to the 
following language ; enough, one would think, to set- 
tle the whole question : — " Then cometh the end, 
when he shall have delivered up the kingdom to God, 
even the Father. For he must reign till he hath put 
all enemies under his feet. But when he saith all 
things are put under him, it is manifest that he is ex- 
cepted, which did put all things under him." Is it 
not amazing that the doctrine of Christ's Deity should 
be maintained against this divine canon of criticism. 
As if it were said, " Of course, no one will imagine 
that any lofty ascriptions of power and glory to Christ 
are to bring into question the undisputed supremacy 
over him, of God himself. It is manifest that He is 
for ever to be excepted from all such inferences." But 
hear the Apostle's conclusion, and then judge what is 
to be thought of this hypothesis of Christ's temporary 
and apparent inferiority and real equality. " And 
when all things shall be subdued unto him, then shall 
the Son also himself be subject unto him that put all 
things under him ; that God may be all in all." 

But I must hasten to leave this part of my subject. 
So powerful, so overwhelming has appeared to me the 
argument against the Trinity, that for years I confess 



348 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



I have been looking for its effect upon the churches 
of England and America. I have sometimes involun- 
tarily said, " Is it possible that what appears so clear 
to me, so unanswerable, can go for nothing with the 
minds of others ? What are the men of England 
and America thinking — not the clergy alone, but the 
reading men, the scholars, the statesmen, the educated 
men — what are they thinking about this matter ? Or 
do they not think of it at all ? Does a great question 
which Newton, and Locke, and Milton, and Priestley, 
and Price decided against them, seem to be unworthy 
of their attention." 

With this inquiry in my mind, I have looked with 
no little interest upon a modification of the Trinitarian 
hypothesis, which three distinguished scholars, in 
three different countries, Germany, Great Britian, and 
America, have presented to the public attention.* 
The English theologian speaks of God, in Sabellian 
phrase, as " revealed in three characters, as standing 
in three relations to us,"t or, in other words, he main- 
tains that the one God has so put his name and dis- 
played his energy in the Father, Son and Spirit, that 
each of them may be lawfully, and is actually required 
to be, worshipped.! His language is very cautious, 
but as far as I can ascertain its meaning, it would 
seem that he does not believe in an Eternal Son or 
Eternal Spirit ; but only that when Jesus Christ ap- 
peared, and the Divine Spirit was poured out upon the 
hearts of men, there was such a demonstration of 
God's power in them, that they may be lawfully wor- 
shipped. The German theologian, though reputed 
Orthodox, adopts the theory of Sabellius. But he de- 

* Schleiermacher, Archbishop Whateley, and Professor Stuart, 
f See Sermon on God's Abode with his People. 
% See Sermon on the name Emmanuel. 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 349 



nies that the common view of Sabellianism is correct. 
This is his exposition of it — difficult, however, to dis- 
tinguish, in any material respect, from the common 
view — " that the Trinity exists as such, only in relation 
to the various methods and spheres of action belong- 
ing to the Godhead." In governing the world in all 
its various operations on finite beings, the Godhead is 
Father. As redeeming, by special operations in the 
person of Christ, and through him, it is Son. As sanc- 
tifying, and in all its operations on the community of 
believers, and as a Unity in the same, the Godhead is 
Spirit"* The distinction, he holds, is modal, not es- 
sential ; is not eternal, but began in time. The Ame- 
rican Professor is not satisfied with this exposition.! 
He holds that " distinctions are co-eternal in the God- 
head." But he utterly rejects the idea that " there are 
three separate consciousnesses, wills," in the persons 
of the Trinity. He admits that this would be Trithe- 
ism. He is offended with those who say, that there 
was society, counsel, or consultation among the per- 
sons of the Trinity. Yet what more this is — what 
more distinct consciousness it implies, than to say, 
that the Father sent the Son into the world, it is diffi- 
cult to perceive. 

But the question is, Is it possible to receive what is 
said of the Father and the Son in the New Testament 
without conceiving of them as possessing separate 
consciousness and will ? I affirm, without any sha- 
dow of doubt, that it is not possible. The Professor 
says, that the language is to be received with qualifi- 
cation, and he compares it to that in which it is said, 

* Schleiermaeher's tract on Sabellius, translated by Prof. Stuart, 
in the 18th and 19th Nos, of the Biblical Repository and Qunrt rly 
Observer. 

t See Prof. Stuart's " Remarks " on Dr. Schleiermacher's Tract, 
in the Biblical Repository and Quarterly Observer, No. 19. 

30 



350 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



that God walks upon the earth ; that he ascends and 
descends. Are the cases parallel ? In the one, we 
easily and naturally understand the representation to 
be figurative ? Is the other of the same nature ? Is 
it figurative language ? And may we suppose that 
the reality is as different from the figure, as omnipre- 
sence is different from ascending and descending. Then 
we may all believe in the Trinity ! Then the Trin- 
ity vanishes away into nothing ; into a mere figure of 
speech. When we read, I still insist, that God the 
Father sent his Son into the world ; that the Son 
lived on earth ; that he prayed to God the Father ; 
that he ascribed all his power and wisdom to God ; 
in short, that he always spoke of God, his Father, as 
a being distinct from himself ; is it possible, I repeat, 
to conceive of him as himself, that very God and Fa- 
ther ? And I re-affirm that it is not possible. 

The history of opinions shows that it is not possible. 
The early fathers of the Church, either did not hold 
to the equality of the persons, and were Arians or 
quasi Arians, or they did hold to the equality, and were 
Tritheists. The modern creeds partake much of the 
Tritheistic character. This, the Professor mainly ad- 
mits. This, Schleiermacher feels. Hence their efforts 
to relieve the subject from the errors of ages. Hence 
this new teaching to the churches. But can it be that 
a cardinal, essential, saving doctrine of Christianity 
has been left to be cleared up by dialectic skill, at the 
end of eighteen centuries of the Christian history? 
What is to become of the mass of men, what has be- 
come of them, if this dialectic skill is necessary for the 
true understanding of the true doctrine ? 

Our own position on this subject, we may add, i. e., 
our position as reformers, is very different. We are 
endeavouring, it is true, to present a safe and sound 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 



351 



doctrine. But we do not say that any view of Trinity 
or Unity, any view of the metaphysical nature of 
God, is necessary to salvation. At the same time, we 
certainly think that it is better to see things clearly, 
than to see them through a mist. And especial!}^, 
when we find that the doctrine of the Trinity is re- 
presented as essential to salvation, we see, then, that 
it so takes hold of human superstition and fear, that it 
so enlists human intolerance, and does such wrong 
and mischief in every way, as to call at our hands for 
the most earnest resistance.* 

The further leading topics in theology may be em- 
braced under the two following heads : human nature 
and its redempiion. I can do but little more in the 
space that remains to me, than to point out the true 
course of inquiry, in opposition to mere hypothesis. 

Our catechisms taught us that human nature is 
totally depraved. Here was hypothesis working upon 
its most delicate and susceptible material, the mind 
of childhood. If we would pursue the true method of 
inquiry, we must forget all this, and take up the sub- 
ject anew. 

Here is a theory. It says that there is no goodness 
in human nature. Suppose a theory to assert that 
there is no faculty of reason in human nature. Should 
we not appeal to fact, to experience ? The theory says 
that the moral quality of human nature is one of un- 
mixed evil. Indeed, it asserts a fact, and a universal 

* The importance attributed to this doctrine strikingly appears 
in what Prof. Stuart says of Schleiermacher's view of it. After 
giving an affecting account of his death, he adds : " Can it he that 
a man who lived thus, and died thus, was not a Christian ? I feel 
constrained to say that I mourn his loss to the world, as an efficient 
and powerful writer ; but I cannot mourn as one without hope for 
him" ! What would Prof. Stuart think if he could anticipate such 
a sentence as this, written concerning himself? 



352 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



and unqualified fact. In man naturally, in the mass 
of men unconverted, there is nothing truly good. An 
animal amiableness there may be, but there is nothing 
accordant with the sacred and heaven -approving law 
of right. 

But this right — now to take up the argument — this 
right, I say ; how did we ever come to know that there 
was any such thing at all ? " Our conscience taught 
us," it will be said. But conscience pronounces upon 
something. Upon what does it pronounce? It recog- 
nizes certain facts ; that is to say, certain emotions, 
experiences. But what facts, what experiences ? Ex- 
periences of right and wrong ; of right as well as wrong. 
In short, universal conscience sitting in judgment on 
the universal experience, pronounces a part of it to be 
right, and a part of it to be wrong. We feel that there 
are right, good, blessed things in our common hu- 
manity. All our conduct, confidence, love towards 
one another, shows it. Flashings of indignation to- 
wards cruelty and oppression, tears of joy over holy 
human pity and relief, show it. All human literature, 
philosophy, law, government, proclaim the same con- 
viction. The entire mass of human sentiment and 
institution stands as one emphatic contradiction to the 
dogma of total depravity. 

But it is said, that this human judgment cannot be 
relied on, that it is false. Then every thing is false. 
Then the very power on which we rely for ascertain- 
ing the truth is false. Then, too, the Bible is false. 
For the Bible puts itself upon the verdict of the uni- 
versal conscience. That conscience declares it to be 
right. But if the judgment is worthless, that claim of 
the book falls. If the eye of the soul sees nothing 
truly, if the light in us be darkness, how great is that 
darkness ? 



FALSE 



PRINCIPLES 



OF REASONING. 



353 



But does not the book itself, contradicting 1 the imi- 
versal conscience, teach the doctrine in question 1 It 
cannot, I think we may say. It would take a suicidal 
part if it did. It would destroy its own foundations. 
It does not. It simply speaks as we all speak, who 
feel that the world is full of evil. Here and there a 
strong expression — of a wounded conscience saying, 
"I was shapen in iniquity" — of outraged holiness 
amidst a wicked people, saying, " They have all gone 
out of the way ; there is none that doeth good, no, not 
one," — this is the whole evidence. One text may 
stand against it all ; recognizing conscience as a law, 
and some obedience to that law, as tilings actually 
existing in the most degraded portions of mankind. 
" For when the Gentiles,-" says Paul, " who have not 
the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, 
these having not the law, are a law unto themselves ; 
which show the work of the law written in their hearts, 
their conscience also bearing witness ; and their 
thoughts meanwhile accusing or else excusing one 
another." 

Finally, Redemption from sin — let us consider it. It 
is a comprehensive work ; its theatre, the world ; its 
sphere, human life ; its security, God's will and pur- 
pose ; its agents, God's power and Spirit ; its process, 
the soul's conversion and sanctification ; and its spe- 
cial means, Christ's life and sacrifice. In all these we 
devoutly believe ; and we are only anxious that nothing 
here be construed unwisely or unreasonably ; that 
nothing be inculcated concerning the soul's conver- 
sion, at variance with the soul's nature ; nothing con- 
cerning God's purpose, hostile to human freedom ; 
nothing concerning the atonement, derogatory to the 
divine wisdom and goodness. It is in vain to say that 
reason and philosophy have nothing to do with these 
30* 



354 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



matters. They have something, they have much to 
do with them ; they are at the very bottom of that 
progress which orthodox theology in various quarters 
is now making. There is indeed much opposition still 
to the great inductive study of facts and principles ; 
but the opposition is giving way, and it will continue 
to yield to the advances of a rational and pure Chris- 
tianity. 

It is not till now, let me remark, when we touch the 
subject of Redemption, that we have reached the ground 
of what is practical in religion. The questions which 
we have thus far considered, are speculative, though 
the latter, it is true, has important moral bearings. 
But we come now to the questions that touch the 
essential human welfare : what has been done for it, 
and what is to be done ? What has God done, and 
what is man to do ? 

Let us attempt here, again, to draw the dividing 
line between fact and hypothesis. What is fact ? A 
world is made ; man is placed upon it ; he has a 
moral nature, a nature, i. e. liable to err, and actually 
and deeply erring, but capable of recovery and im- 
provement ; life is filled with ministrations to virtue, 
and with restraints upon evil ; and with our belief, 
certain Christian facts are to be reckoned in the ac- 
count ; to wit, that to the natural means of virtue and 
redemption, certain special means are added, the teach- 
ing, the example, the miracles, and the sufferings of 
Christ ; and moreover, we believe that a divine influ- 
ence is imparted to help human endeavour. That 
endeavour, at the same time, is to be put forth ; it is 
demanded by reason and Scripture ; it is implied in 
this demand that man has some power to work out 
his welfare ; and it is a matter of fact that he has 
such a power. 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 355 

Now to explain the facts of the human condition 
and redemption, a certain hypothesis is introduced. 
And let it he repeated, that the introduction of an hy- 
pothesis is not to he condemned, provided it be well 
considered that it is a mere supposition. If it is rea- 
sonable ; if it appears best to explain the facts ; if it 
does not contradict any of the facts; it may be proper- 
ly entertained as a supposition ; it may justly stand 
till some better explanation is offered. But what is 
the hypothesis on which the prevailing theology is 
founded ? It is more than hypothesis, to be sure, with 
its supporters. It is unquestioned assumption ; it is 
an impregnable, fixed creed ; and therein 1 hold that 
it is unphilosophical. But it is really nothing else but 
hypothesis ; it is not certainty, but supposition ; it can- 
not justly claim to exclude all other suppositions ; and 
now what is it 1 

It is that man was created in a state of absolute in- 
nocence ; that he fell from that estate ; that by his fall 
he involved his whole race in sin and misery ; that he 
stood trial for all his posterity, and that by his failure 
all men were constituted sinners ; that they have lost 
the power of recovery, all voluntary, moral power, 
to be good and pure ; that the earth also is cursed in 
consequence of Adam's fall ; that its elements, its pro- 
ducts, its climate perhaps, at any rate its goodliness 
and beauty are changed ; that the glory has passed 
away ; in short, that nature without and nature with- 
in us, are wrenched from their original, constitutional 
order, and are not what God originally meant or made 
them to be. The world now rolls round the sun, a 
blasted, ruined, dark sphere, unlike any other sphere 
in its condition ; it has lost its place in the sisterhood 
of happy worlds ; and could any creature's eye from 
above look down upon the train of heavenly orbs, he 



355 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



would see this to be marked, marred, and desolate ; no 
smiling orb, no embosoming beauty and goodliness, 
but scathed and blackened, by the scourge and frown 
of infinite displeasure. For this accursed globe, in this 
awful emergency, the hypothesis proceeds to state, that 
a grand expedient was found, a great plan of redemp- 
tion was devised. It was devised in heaven. Earth 
could never have found it out. Nor angel nor archan- 
gel could ever have seen or imagined it. There was 
counsel taken in heaven for the salvation of the world ; 
for the recovery of man. I know of no good reason. 
I repeat, why this word, counsel, should be objected to; 
there were thoughts, designs, purposes to that end. 
God, the Father, determined to send God, the Son, 
into the world. In due time, he came ; the Sent, and 
not the Sender, came into the world ; he lived among 
men, for thirty years and more ; and at length, he 
who was very God and very man, died upon the cross. 
By thus doing, thus suffering, he removed an other- 
wise insuperable obstacle to the bestowment of divine 
mercy upon sinful men, and opened the w 7 ay for their 
return to the merciful favour of God, and the eternal 
bliss of heaven. 

What an hypothesis ! With no irreverence, but in 
solemn sincerity I declare, that I have felt, while un- 
folding it, as if I were involved in the shadows of some 
old, terrific, Hindu or Druid mythology. And I firmly 
believe, that if this hypothesis had been this day 
spread before any audience in Christendom for the first 
time, if they had never heard of it before, they would 
have felt it as I do. I can hardly doubt that they 
would have risen upon their feet and cried out, in 
amazement, if not indignation, at a theory so awful 
and incredible. 

But let us patiently consider it. I maintain then, 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 



357 



that it is not necessary to explain the facts ; that it con- 
tradicts the facts ; that it is pure assumption without 
any known facts to rest upon ; and that it is essentially 
self-contradictory and altogether incredible. 

Its self-contradictory character in one point I have 
already insisted upon, and need not repeat what I then 
said. It presents, in its theory of the divine Persons 
who took their distinct and respective parts in the 
work of man's redemption, ideas irreconcilably at va- 
riance with the Divine Unity. It presents further 
contradictions ; an Almighty will, thwarted ; an infi- 
nite counsel, meeting with apparently unforeseen diffi- 
culties, and obliged to resort to new and extraordinary 
expedients. Man was made pure, and he fell. How, 
I might ask, could purity sin ? It is held to be morally 
impossible, impossible without divine intervention, for 
total depravity to put forth one right affection. How 
then could perfect purity sin ? Did Ood interfere to 
make it sin ? But to proceed with the supposition ; if 
man, instead of being made capable alike of good and 
evil, was made constitutionally sinless, what could 
have been the end but to keep him so ? But the fall 
defeated that end. Then, again, the constitution of 
the material world was originally established for a 
pure race ; it was changed to meet the condition of a 
guilty race. If it had been foreseen that the very first 
man would sin, and drag down all his offspring with 
him, why was the world made for innocence to dwell 
in ? It would be as if in pleasant grounds, a fair gar- 
den had been made for an animal supposed to be harm- 
less, and then, the animal proving to be a tiger, it had 
been necessary to raze the grounds, to tear up the 
shrubs and the flowers, and to turn the garden into a 
prison and a lair. 

Again ; I say, that the theory is pure assumption, 



358 ERCRS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 

without any known facts to rely upon. That the con- 
stitution of nature was changed, that the physical 
nature of man, his natural appetites and passions, 
were changed, is what we do not know, and is in fact 
a thing incredible. That the moral nature of man, 
imperfect by the very limitation of his powers, ignorant 
before experience, placed here apparently to learn by 
experience, liable to err by every known and conceiv- 
able element of his constitution ; that this nature at 
its origin was in a state of angelic purity, and then fell 
at once into utter depravity, is what we do not know, 
and is, in truth, a thing unintelligible. Does any one 
really suppose, can he really believe, that the world, 
when man was created and placed upon it, was essen- 
tially otherwise than it is now ; that it was not 
moulded of hills and valleys, and covered with herbs 
and flowers, and visited by heat and cold, storm and 
sunshine ; or that man was not clothed with flesh 
and fleshly appetites ; or that his soul was not at the 
beginning, weak, inexperienced, and liable to err ? But 
it may be said that there is another class of facts to be 
considered ; the declarations of the Bible. We receive 
those declarations. What are they? That man fell; 
that the earth was cursed in consequence ; and that 
through sin, misery has come into the world. Can these 
declarations be stretched out to cover the stupendous 
hypothesis which has been stated ? I hold that there 
is another hypothesis that meets and satisfies them. 
Suppose that man's first estate was one of compara- 
tive simplicity and purity, and this the more likely be- 
cause he must have been created in an adult state ; 
suppose that after a time he fell into gross wicked- 
ness and disorder ; suppose that industry and culture 
declined, and the earth shot up briars and thorns, 
where it before gave herbs and fruits ; and suppose, in 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 359 

fine, that sin thus coming into the world, was a curse 
to the earth and a fountain of misery through all its 
ages ; and does not this hypothesis answer to all the 
declarations of the Bible ? To my mind, it does so in 
the most satisfactory manner. 

I may add that the hypothesis which we are consid- 
ering, is peculiarly the theologian's hypothesis. . It is 
not, and never has been, the theory of philosophy. In 
all the general works that have been written on man 
and the constitution of man, on the philosophy of his- 
tory and of the human condition, on the philosophy of 
mind and morals, it has always been maintained that 
man and life, the world and the human constitution 
and condition, are such as God wisely made and in- 
tended them to be, for the general progress and improve- 
ment of the human race. In this respect, the prevail- 
ing theology stands directly confronted and at open 
war with philosophy. And hence it is that philosophy 
has been, to so considerable an extent, infidel ; con- 
ceiving, as it naturally has done, that the prevailing 
theology was the true Bible philosophy. Hence a 
remarkable French writer* has lately gone to the in- 
sane length of maintaining that the true philosophical 
tendency of thought is to the utter subversion of all 
religion, and in fact to absolute, blank, desolating 
atheism. Is it not time to consider where the theolo- 
gical hypothesis is leading ? 

But to proceed : I maintain, in the third place, that 
that hypothesis contradicts the facts which it proposes 
to explain. It contradicts the fact of natural goodness 
in man. And it contradicts the fact of moral freedom. 
These denials, we may observe, are closely bound to- 
gether, and mutually dependent on each other. If 
man is totally depraved, he can have no freedom to be 
* Auguste Comte. 



360 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 



good. If he has no freedom to be good he is indeed 
totally and hopelessly depraved. 

The leading tendency if not object, of the cele- 
brated work of Jonathan Edwards on the Will, is to 
prove that man, in his natural state, has no power, no 
liberty to be good. Now, on the ground that man is 
totally depraved his position is impregnable ; his ar- 
gument is triumphant. And the reason is this : good- 
ness, strictly speaking, is not an object of will. It is 
not within the province of the will. I can no more 
will virtue to be lovely to me ; that is, I can no more 
will to love it ; than I can will honey to be sweet, or 
sweetness to be agreeable to my taste, and to love it. 
If there is not a love of virtue, as of sweetness, in the 
very constitution of my nature, I have no power to 
love it. What, then, is the province of the will ? It 
is distinctly this : to direct certain actions of my body, 
and the attention of my mind. The latter is the only 
point for consideration here ; for we are not speaking 
of the visible action of virtue, which is only the image 
of inward virtue. What, then, can I do to awaken in 
myself good and virtuous emotion, to awaken love ? 
I cannot will them into existence any more than I can 
will the love of music or of nature into existence. But 
this I can do ; this is within the province of the will. 
I can will and give attention to them. I can think 
of the objects that should awaken good emotions. I 
can meditate and pray. Thus, if I have some natural 
good emotions, and the ability to cultivate them, I 
have the power to be good ; and no otherwise. I have 
both. 

But this the hypothesis denies. It denies that we 
have naturally any right feelings. And it ought, in 
consequence, to deny, and it does usually deny that 
we have any power whatever to bring them into exist- 



F\LSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 361 

ence. And in so doing, I say, it contradicts the foun- 
dation facts of our nature ; facts on which all religion 
and morality repose ; facts without which the Bible is 
an enigma, and without which I humbly and reve- 
rently say, that, to my apprehension, the government 
of heaven would be the most awful and terrific injustice. 
For the hypothesis involves to my mind, this farther, 
astounding, paralyzing contradiction ; that we are 
commanded, on pain of hell, on pain of God's displea- 
sure, on pain of unending guilt and misery, to do that 
which we have no power to do ; to feel that which 
we have no power to feel ; to achieve that which we 
have no power to achieve. 

Nor, in fine, is this hypothesis necessary to explain 
the facts of our nature and condition. It is imagined 
that the fact of sin implies some tremendous catas- 
trophe like the fall ; that the origin of evil is embo- 
somed, a dark secret, in some cloud of mystery or 
wrath ; that the miseries of the world prove it to have 
been wrenched away from the fair universe of God. 
But the assumption, I conceive, is altogether gratuit- 
ous and uncalled-for. It is in the very nature of a 
moral and imperfect being to err ; not to sin wilfully, 
malignantly ; that is not necessary ; but to err, through 
ignorance and impulse, to fall into excess or defect, 
and so to fall into sin. And it is in the power of 
such a being to sin intentionally. Man has done 
both. And misery has followed as the consequence at 
once, and corrective of his errors. Where, now, is the 
mystery or difficulty ? Where is the need of any ex- 
traordinary hypothesis, implying the subversion or 
change of the original plan, or the devising of expedi- 
ents to meet an unnatural or unforeseen crisis 1 I 
will venture to say, in dissent from the common opin- 
ion, and at the risk of being thought not to under- 
31 



362 ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, FROM 

stand the difficulties of the case, that " the origin of 
evil" presents no dark or mysterious problem. To my 
mind, it is clear and of easy solution. That is to say, 
it is clear as to the principle ; though there are diffi- 
culties as to the details. And the solution, as I have 
already implied, is this. An imperfect, free, moral na- 
ture is, in its essential constitution — is, by definition, 
peccable ; it is liable to err ; and its erring is nothing 
strange nor mysterious. The notion of untempted in- 
nocence for such a being, is, I hold, a dream of Theo- 
logy. His very improvement, his very progress, ever 
implies previous erring. And that from his erring, 
misery should come ; this is equally intelligible. Now 
the extent to which these evils go, not the origin of 
them : this is doubtless a problem that I cannot solve. 
There are shadows upon the world that we cannot 
penetrate ; masses of sin and misery that overwhelm 
us with wonder and awe ; but the world-problem it- 
self is not involved in those shadows. The principle 
of the case is clear, and needs not the theological hy- 
pothesis to relieve it from difficulty ; not to say that 
the relief were stranger and harder to receive than the 
difficulty. 

The Redemption of man, then, as I understand it, 
proceeds on this ground and in this wise. Man is 
placed upon the earth, with a nature, moral, improve- 
able, immortal ; capable of good, exposed to evil ; in 
temptation a,nd suffering, in need and peril ; and all 
this mingled too with joy and hope. His being is a 
good gift ; his life is a good opportunity. It is the 
highest gift and glory in the universe, to be capable of 
virtue, of purity, of the blessed love and likeness of 
God. A field for such attainment, is spread here upon 
earth ; a school is opened, filled with incessant, instant, 
sublime instructions. But the school is not for the idle. 



FALSE PRINCIPLES OF REASONING. 363 

The field is not the field of the sluggard. Through 
toil and struggle, through disaster and sorrow, with 
blessed affections too, and hopes and foretastes of 
heaven, man must rise. 

Now the doctrine of Redemption of which this is the 
basis — the doctrine of Redemption is, that God, our 
Maker, hath had compassion upon us and hath inter- 
posed for our welfare ; that he, the Infinite One, whose 
presence is in every world and with every creature, 
hath manifested that presence in miracles, and in 
mercies ; in miracles divine, in mercies unspeakable. 
What creed can be more to me than this ; that God 
pities me ; that God careth for me ; and that to me, a 
wanderer from his presence and love, he hath sent 
forth his Son, " to bring me nigh to him ! " Nigh to 
Him ! shelter, protection, peace, joy, blessedness ; all, 
and more than all that words can utter, is summed up 
in this. The bright realm of heaven that overwhelmed 
me with its awful majesty, melts and dissolves in 
dews of mercy upon my thirsting and fainting nature. 

Redemption — this is the grandeur of the world. All 
the majesty of earthly empires sinks to nothing before 
this kingdom of God, this reign of heaven upon earth ! 
Oh ! to what noble end, serve all our cares and labours 
and studies but to build up this kingdom ; to build it 
up in our hearts and homes ; to build it up in the city 
and the wilderness ; to build it up in all lands, and 
among all nations ? To what other end were appoint- 
ed all our bitter sorrows ? What means all the weary- 
ing and wearing conflict of human alfairs and interests ; 
with sickness and pain and grief and death to teach 
us — what means it but this ; that out of the infinite 
strife and eternal vicissitude, should rise immortal vir- 
tue and purity ? 



364 



ERRORS IN THEOLOGY, ETC. 



To see redeemed men walking upon earth ; the 
chains fallen, the step free, the brow lifted to heaven : 
to see redeemed men, changed into the image of God, 
touched by his spirit, won by the loveliness of Christ — 
won to love and patience and self-sacrifice — this is a 
vision compared with which all other visions fade 
away. 

It is coming ! it shall come ! It hath been, and 
shall be yet more. Yes ; the world shall yet more 
bear the impress of this glorious work ! " An high- 
way shall there be upon it, and a way ; and it shall 
be called, a way of holiness ; the unclean shall not 
pass over it ; but it shall be for those ; the way-faring 
men, though fools, shall not err therein. No lion shall 
be there, nor any ravenous beast shall go up thereon ; 
it shall not be found there ; but the redeemed shall 
walk there. And the ransomed of the Lord shall re- 
turn and come to Zion, with songs and everlasting joy 
upon their heads ; they shall obtain joy and gladness ; 
and sorrow and sighing shall flee away." 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 
MORAL PHILOSOPHY* 



This is the very book which we have long wished 
to see. For we have long been convinced that there 
is a question connected with the Calvinistic contro- 
versy, more important than all others, going beyond 
all others, and that is nothing less than a question 
about the essential principles and grounds of right and 
wrong. What is rectitude ? A nd how are we to arrive 
at the knowledge of it ? These are the questions, which 
Dr. Wardlaw has undertaken to discuss in the work 
before us. And what now, do our readers suppose, is 
the legitimate theory of Calvinism on the subject of 
morals ? Why, truly, that human nature, which has 
always been supposed to be both the subject of moral 
philosophy and its investigator, is neither one nor the 
other ; that it neither furnishes the facts on which a 
just theory of morals can be built up, nor contains the 
power that is able to discriminate among any facts, so 
as to arrive at a safe conclusion. Human nature is 
totally depraved ; therefore it furnishes no data for a 
moral theory. Its very conscience is perverted; the 
very labours of conscience in its own appropriate sphere, 
that of moral philosophy, have resulted in error ; and 
in such serious, wide-spread, universal error, that it 
cannot be trusted, as a principle to decide between 

* Review of " Christian Ethics, or Moral Philosophy on the Prin- 
ciple of Divine Revelation. By Ralph Wardlaw, D.D. With an 
Introductory Essay, by Leonard Woods, D.D." 

31* 



366 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 



right and wrong. " It is preposterous," says Dr. Ward- 
law, " to commit the decision of an inquiry respecting 
the true principles of moral rectitude, to a creature 
subject to all the blinding and perverting influences of 
moral pravity." 

Such is, substantially, Dr. Wardlaw's theory, though 
his adherence to it is not quite so unflinching as we 
had expected to find it. He admits that there is some 
dim light of conscience left in human nature. But that 
light is put out by a single consideration, to which we 
beg our readers to attend with us for one moment. 
The Calvinistic doctrine, be it remembered, is, that 
mankind are totally depraved, that human nature, in 
its ordinary state and in the mass of mankind, is not 
a mixture of good and evil, but that it is unmixed evil • 
that there is nothing truly good in it. Now it is 
notorious, that men in all ages and among all nations, 
have been accustomed to make, what they have called, 
moral discriminations ; to pronounce some things bad, 
and other things good, in the character of their fellow 
beings. But this judgment, according to the Calvin- 
istic theory, has been a total mistake. Conscience has 
been as much depraved as any other part of human 
nature. It has been worse than an unsafe or defective 
guide ; it has been the grand arch-deceiver of the 
world ; leading mankind in all ages to suppose there 
was good, where there really was no good whatsoever. 

It will be perceived that we use the word conscience 
here for the faculty of moral discrimination in general, 
though that word is usually restricted in its application, 
so as to designate only the judgments, we pronounce 
upon ourselves. The power, however, which morally 
discriminates good from evil, must be essentially the 
same, whether it is applied to ourselves or others. But 
now, we repeat, according to the Calvinistic theory. 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



367 



this moral discrimination is utterly at fault ; it is 
entitled to no confidence whatever. Its judgment about 
right and wrong is a mere pretence, a mere farce. Its 
very use of terms, its very nomenclature, has been a 
succession of blunders from the creation of the world 
to this day. There is really no such thing as right 
and wrong among the ??iass of mankind. All is wrong, 
and nothing but wrong. The moral, the religious 
complexion of human nature is nothing but black ; 
and the eye, that has fancied it saw white spots and 
various intermingled hues, has been totally deceived. 
And after ten thousands and millions of such mistakes, 
that eye, the moral eye in man, is not to be trusted 
at all. 

Now moral philosophy, in utter disregard of these 
remonstrances of Calvinism, has built up its theories 
on the basis of human nature. It has taken, analyzed, 
and classified the facts of human nature, — that is to 
say, human feelings, passions, desires ; it has pro- 
nounced some things in human nature to be right ; it 
has held itself competent to decide which are right and 
which are wrong, and thus to establish principles of 
duty, to show that some things ought to be done, and 
others avoided. But here Calvinism and moral phi- 
losophy are at issue. And it is the object of the first 
part of Dr. YTardlaw's work to plead the cause of 
Calvinism against all the systems of moral philosophy 
in the world. He passes them in review, the systems 
of Aristotle, of Zeno, and of Epicurus, and the modern 
ones of Cudworth, Adam Smith, Dr. Hutcheson, Dr. 
Brown, Hume, and Bishop Butler ; and, because they 
have not recognized the Calvinistic view of human 
depravity, he pronounces them essentially defective 
and wrong 

It is not our intention to follow Dr. "Wardlaw through 



368 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 

the several parts of his work. We are at too great a 
distance from him, to make it a question of much 
interest here, whether or not he has done himself credit 
as a philosopher or as a reasoner. Our chief business 
is with the main question, Whether the doctrine of 
total depravity is to overthrow all our moral theories, 
and to unsettle the very grounds of moral truth. But 
we cannot help observing, that Dr. Wardlaw seems to 
us to have been neither steady to his main point, nor 
just to the systems he attacks, nor very discriminating 
with regard to those claims of the Bible which he 
undertakes to set up. If human nature be totally 
depraved, then, indeed, the moral theories are all 
wrong, totally wrong. This main point and the main 
inference, the writer should have steadfastly adhered 
to, or, as it seems to us, he should not have written 
this book. That is to say, he should not have written 
a book of such violent and wholesale attack upon all 
former moral writers ; because the moment he quits 
the positions above stated, he steps upon the very 
ground, which these writers themselves occupy. In 
consistency, there should be none of these qualifying 
phrases, " in a measure," " to a certain degree," so freely 
scattered up and down in this book, none of these loop- 
holes of escape from the theory, none of these old 
Calvinistic practices of asserting much in the body of 
the discourse and denying it in the " improvement f 
since these qualifications, or any qualifications, in- 
stantly carry the Calvinistic philosopher upon the very 
ground which he opposes and contemns. For all moral 
philosophers have admitted that there is much wrong 
and evil in human nature, and much liability to error 
in the human conscience ; else why should they labour 
to set up a true and right standard ? And herein it is, 
that we think Dr. Wardlaw has not been just to them. 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



369 



He treats them as if he supposed they had taken the 
whole of human nature in its present condition, as their 
standard ; than which nothing can be more untrue. 
As an illustration of his meaning, he supposes a chem- 
ist to take and analyze a portion of polluted Thames- 
water, and to present us the result, as an account of 
the pure element. But see how unfair this is, and how 
fatal too, to the Doctor's theory. The polluted stream, 
of course, is human nature. But does the moral chem- 
ist present the whole of his analysis, as an account of 
moral purity? Does he incorporate all the vileness of 
the human affections into his theory of moral rectitude? 
Nothing can be farther from the truth. But, moreover, 
cannot the chemist find pure water in the most tainted 
stream ? When he has analyzed a portion taken from 
the " sluggish river," into its component parts, can he 
not present to us pure water, and tell us what it is ? 
This is what the moral examiner has done. With 
regard to the use of the Scriptures, in the formation of 
a just moral philosophy, nothing would delight us 
more, than to see them fairly and understandingly 
applied to that purpose. That they have been too 
much neglected by philosophers is certain. That they 
will contribute more than they have done, to the estab- 
lishment of more and more correct moral theories, we 
have no doubt, and we are glad to have the public 
attention directed to this point. But to assert that the 
Scriptures are the source of our original moral concep- 
tions, or of all our moral conceptions, is attempting to 
do them honour, as we hope to show, not only in 
defiance of reason, but in disregard of their own im- 
plied and obvious character. 

After all, we cannot help asking, what truth, what 
one truth has Dr. Wardlaw added to the theory of 
morals ? What one discovery has he made in this new 



370 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 



field of inquiry ? Not one. The world has heard of 
no new discovery. This single fact shows how base- 
less are the assumptions, and how groundless are the 
sweeping complaints against moral philosophy, with 
which this book sets out. 

But let us proceed to some consideration of the Cal- 
vinistic theory of moral philosophy, or, more exactly 
perhaps, the Calvinistic rejection of all former theories. 

And, in the first place, let us consider, a little more 
fully, the ground which Calvinism occupies. Its posi- 
tion with regard to moral philosophy, Dr. Ward law 
has stated. It is not, however, with philosophy alone, 
that Calvinism is at war, but with all literature, with 
all the histories in the world, with almost all the me- 
moirs that ever were written, and not less, with the 
common sense, common conversation, and common 
conduct of all mankind. For what is the tenor of 
all the literature, the poetry, the fiction, the history, the 
biography in the world ? What are the written, the 
recorded thoughts of mankind, as they bear upon the 
point before us ? What is all this — that is portrayed 
by the hands of unregenerate men, and that draws its 
delineations from the characters of unregenerate men ? 
Look into these works, and you find them filled with 
moral pictures, pictures of good and evil. Here, indig- 
nation at vice flashes across the page of genius ; there, 
the pencil, dipped in the dyes of heaven, portrays the 
glowing form of moral beauty and commends it to the 
admiration of the world. Here, 

" the historic muse, 
Proud of her treasure, marches down with it 
To latest time ;" 

and there, satire throws its withering glance upon 
fraud and meanness. Here, the orator thunders out 
his anathema against the tyrant and oppressor ; and 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



371 



there, friendship raises its monument to departed good- 
ness, pours out its tears in eulogy and song, and be- 
queaths unequalled virtue to undying remembrance. 
" Such beneficence," is its language, " such beneficence, 
such excellence, such loveliness, — when shall we look 
upon their like again ?" Well, it is all a mistake ! — ■ 
concerning the mass of mankind, it is all a mistake ! 
There is no ground in human nature for these moral 
discriminations. All is wrong, all is evil ; and what 
is called good is only the semblance of good. So ends 
the Calvinist's catechism. The same is true of the 
conversation and conduct of men. Their conduct, 
much of it, expresses confidence and love to one an- 
other. The manners of life all over the world, with 
however much of coldness and distrust, are neverthe- 
less moulded by these sentiments of the heart ; the 
approving smile, the glowing countenance, the out- 
stretched hand, the fond embrace, are testifying all 
over the world, that there are qualities to be admired, 
that there are virtues to be loved. Conversation, too, 
is continually bearing witness to the same convictions. 
Men are everywhere speaking of one and another whom 
they know, as good, as excellent, as acting worthily 
and nobly. They are addressing to one another, in a 
thousand indirect forms of language, the same fervent 
and kind sentiments. Conversation, language, is 
everywhere spreading, in the breath of speech, its invis- 
ible network, and weaving the ties of affection that 
hold society together. And the very foundation of all 
this is confidence in human worth. But again we 
say, that Calvinism holds all this to be an entire mis- 
take. And there is nothing on earth that is allowed 
to stand against this blighting judgment. You are 
surrounded, perhaps, with children. Their early affec- 
tions, like their bright faces, are putting on a thousand 



372 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 

quick, and fluctuating, and beautiful expressions. You 
are charmed and won by their infantile simplicity and 
exquisite tenderness. Their very voices seem to be 
softened and attuned by the gentleness of their hearts. 
" Beautiful ones of earth !" you are ready to exclaim, 
" almost meet for heaven !" And the Saviour's voice 
answers back, " Of such is the kingdom of heaven !" 
It is all a mistake ! says the system we are consider- 
ing. In these children there is nothing really good ; 
in the sight of the unerring Judge of right and wrong, 
nothing good ! Your imagination may please itself 
with fancying that these are little cherubs ; but the 
truth is— pardon the phrase for the sake of the truth — 
the truth is, that they are only little devils in the guise 
of cherubs ! Because, if there were one particle of 
real holiness in these beings, if the only unerring eye 
saw anything really good in them, then they would be 
something better than totally depraved ; they would 
be Christians, says this system, — so say not we, — they 
would be Christians, and in the way to heaven ; but 
there is not in them one particle of real excellence ! 

But we must stop here, one moment, to consider and 
to answer for the thousandth time, we suppose, the only 
objection that is ever offered to this conclusion. "Not 
one particle of holiness," the defender of this system 
may say ; " but still there is much that is amiable and 
excellent, in human nature ; and much that is so 
pleasing, that it almost persuades us to call it real vir- 
tue." If we were dealing with a professed metaphysi- 
cian or moral philosopher, we confess that we should 
hardly know how to suppress our indignation at such 
trifling with words, as appears in this objection. 
What is it, that is in controversy here ? It is moral 
excellence. The question is about moral excellence, 
and about nothing else. It is not about what may 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 373 

chance to be pleasing and agreeable to a totally de- 
praved nature, but about what is really good, — good 
according to the only unerring standard. But what 
is the highest and most unerring standard ? It is the 
judgment of God. Is there any thing morally good in 
human nature, according to that standard ? The 
Calvinist's answer is, Nothing. Here end all questions 
then. To say that there is something pleasing in 
human nature, as there is in animals, the horse and 
the dog, is nothing to the purpose. To say, that there 
are semblances of goodness in men, is worse than say- 
ing nothing to the purpose. It is gravely putting for- 
ward an argument which can answer no end but that 
of self-deception. And, if we are so deceived, we 
ought to reform our language ; we ought not to say 
that these semblances are excellent and lovely ; we 
ought to suspect, and dread, and dislike them more 
than open vices ; for they are more dangerous ; they 
beguile us of all moral discrimination ; they corrupt 
the fountain of truth in us. And, indeed, there are 
semblances of good, which are to be thus regarded ; 
but the evasion we are considering, instead of expos- 
ing, helps to shield them. If the Calvinist only main- 
tained that the mass of mankind is not prevailingly, 
habitually good, there would be no controversy. If 
he only said, that mankind are sadly depraved, that 
the highest principle of virtue, the fixed love of God, 
is wanting in multitudes, we should have no dispute 
with him. But he says that there is nothing good ; 
not any, the least thing that is pure and holy; noth- 
ing, that by any addition or increase, can become holi- 
ness ; not one solitary, momentary breathing of real 
virtue, ever to be found in human nature. Now, for 
Calvinists to admit that there is nevertheless something 
pleasing, grateful, charming in human nature is all 
32 



374 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 

mockery. It is nothing to the purpose. We might 
as well be told that the human form is sometimes 
beautiful, the countenance lovely, the movement grace- 
ful. It is nothing to the purpose. The question now 
is, not a question of taste, but of theology. It is a 
question about the object, not of the imagination, but 
of the conscience, the moral nature. When men ad - 
mire, praise, love the virtues of others, they suppose 
they admire, praise, love what is really, morally ex- 
cellent. Do they so ? Calvinism avers that they do 
not. If it admitted that there was any thing morally 
pure and good in what men love, that there was in 
human nature the least possible degree of what is 
pleasing to God and conformable to bis law, the very 
basis of Calvinism would be taken away, and all its 
superstructure would fall to the ground. But it denies 
this, and therefore, we repeat, it stands confronted with 
the judgment of the whole world. 

We return to this point, for we wish that this posi- 
tion of the system may be understood ; we think it 
will be found to yield us some inference. 

This, then, is the position of the system and of its 
defenders. A few persons, a few individuals in a com- 
munity, a few thousands in the world, declare, that 
all the rest are totally depraved, that there is no foun- 
dation in their nature for a system of moral philosophy; 
no truth in the moral part of their literature ; nothing 
but error in their conversation, so far as it touches the 
moral qualities of those around them. All the rest of 
the world denies it ; not in form, perhaps, but in fact 
denies it. That is to say, they speak about virtue, 
right, goodness, as realities, and not fictions and delu- 
sions. They say habitually, and they say it not of 
a few elected persons, but of many beside them, "such 
men are good men, such actions are right, such quali- 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



375 



ties are excellent and lovely." " No," say the few ; 
" these things are not good, nor right, nor excellent." 
And when they say this they oppose the judgment of 
the whole human race ! Ask any man, whether he 
does not love a kind action, or a merciful deed ; whether 
his feelings do not sometimes kindle at the thought of 
a generous benefactor, of an excellent parent, of a good 
and worthy man ; and he will, with all his heart, an- 
swer that they do. He would think himself a brute 
and a monster, if they did not. In fact, the language, 
the literature — we repeat — the poetry, the history of 
all the world, is full of testimonies to the beauty of 
goodness. " Nevertheless," say the few, " there is no 
real love of goodness in the world ; none but in the 
hearts of the regenerate. With the exception of what 
is good in them, there is no real goodness in the world. 
What men call goodness, is not goodness ; and if it 
were, they would not love, but hate it. God, the infi- 
nitely good and kind Being, they perfectly hate." 
And when the few say this, we repeat, they set them- 
selves against, the judgment of the whole world ! 

It is not strange then, that Calvinism should find it 
difficult to sustain itself in the public mind. It is not 
strange that its tenets, according to the experience and 
confession of all its advocates, should show a tendency, 
the moment they are let alone and left to themselves, 
to sink down, out of the public mind, and to be lost 
in the mass of opinions, so actively conflicting with 
them. This tendency is well understood, and univer- 
sally acknowledged. There never was a city, nor vil- 
lage, nor hamlet in the world, where this system has 
been preached, that it did not sooner or later array 
against itself an intelligent opposition. And there 
never was a congregation on earth, where this system 
has once been preached, and has, at length, ceased to 



376 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 

be urged, so that men's minds were left to take the 
natural course of human opinion, that they did not 
give up, one after another, every point of it. 

Nor, in taking the popular side in this controversy, 
do we wish to say any thing, to catch the popular ear, 
or to flatter the popular passions and prejudices. We 
admit, we more than admit, we insist, that there is 
much, very much, that is wrong in the world ; more 
that is wrong than right ; more that is evil than good. 
We are sensible, that there is much that is wrong in 
the history and current literature and moral philoso- 
phy of the world. They do not conform sufficiently 
to the spirit of that better Teacher, to whom it is our 
privilege and happiness to listen. We are quite aware, 
that there is much in the prevailing moral sentiments 
of mankind that needs to be reformed. We need not 
to be told, that there is error and evil and blindness in 
the minds of all human beings. We can go far with 
the Calvinists in delineations of this nature. But there 
is a point at which we must stop. We cannot admit 
that there is nothing good in human nature, no first 
principle to be built upon, no spark to be kindled ; no 
foundation for moral philosophy, no foundation for 
moral hope. 

But the point where definition and acquiescence 
stop, would properly be the beginning of argument. 
And we must beg our readers to give us a little atten- 
tion, if not to argument at length, to a statement of 
what we conceive the argument on this subject would 
be. What then is rectitude, holiness, or virtue ? (the 
name of the quality is immaterial,) — What is its origin? 
— What makes it to be to us the quality that it is ? 

This, as we have already intimated, is the material 
question. For it is only by setting up a peculiar de- 
finition of religion or rectitude, and then maintaining 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



377 



that this peculiar quality is the product of a special 
divine influence, that they are able to deny the posses- 
sion of every, the least degree of rectitude to the rest 
of mankind. From the same source, too, springs all 
exclusion, alienation, division. 

What, then, is moral rectitude ? We suppose that 
if we were to write down for answer, the words — "jus- 
tice, love, pity, disinterestedness, holiness, piety, virtue" 
— the justness of the reply would be indisputable. But 
what do these words mean ? The answer is, that the 
universal human conscience must interpret their mean- 
ing. The idea of rectitude cannot be defined but by 
using these or the like words. That is to say, strictly 
speaking, it cannot be defined at all. Reference mast 
be made simply to the human heart. And if it be 
asked, again, what gives birth to this idea of rectitude 
or holiness, the answer must be, it is the constitution 
of our nature ; it is God. This, in substance, is the 
whole amount of all that we know about rectitude ; of 
all that any body knows about it ; and it proves, be- 
yond all doubt, that the Calvinistic assumption is for- 
bidden by the universal conscience and conviction. 

To illustrate this, suppose a class of theorists were 
to arise, and to call in question all the received ideas 
of philosophy, science and taste. Suppose they should 
say, " We have another idea of truth, of nature, of 
beauty ; we repudiate and reject not only all your 
theories, but all your fundamental ideas on these sub- 
jects." What would be the answer. " You cannot ;" 
all men would say — ■" you cannot ; unless you main- 
tain that the universal human reason is irrational ; and 
that all received truth is falsehood. You cannot, un- 
less you claim an illumination from heaven in matters 
of philosophy, science and taste, that distinguishes you 
from all other men. And if you do, we know of no 
32* 



378 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEW'S OF 



clearer definition of fanaticism than your opinion pre- 
sents." 

In fact, if any one will tell us why certain melodies, 
colours and forms, or why certain axioms and " first 
truths" are agreeable to us ; we will tell him why cer- 
tain moral qualities are so. The only answer is that 
our nature is constituted to find them so. It is so ; 
and that is all we know — all w T e can say about it. 
Philosophy has been always asking for this why ; but 
it is in vain. We once thought ourselves, that we had 
pushed definition to its ultimate point, and come to the 
truth in its last analysis, by saying that the primary 
idea of rectitude is love, benevolence, the desire of 
promoting happiness • but we see that even this fails. 
Thus we had construed the declaration that " God is 
love ;" and we had said, — this embraces all ; this 
sounds the depths of all rectitude. But suppose that 
God were a being who had created a universe of mere 
animal, of mere insect happiness ; and would this 
satisfy our idea of his perfection ? No ; this would be 
mere sympathy with mere happiness ; and the noblest 
idea would be left out. That is the moral idea, the 
idea of rectitude ; and for the understanding of this, 
we can appeal to no definition, to no reasoning, but 
only to the constitution of our nature. 

It is in this attempt at definition that all the moral 
theories have failed : and yet it is well worth observing 
how they have all involved this idea, though they have 
been seeking something else. Let us look at them a 
moment in this view. 

One preliminary observation will be found of special 
importance here. It may have been observed by the 
reader, that we have been careful to speak of nothing 
but the feeling, the sentiment of rectitude, as it exists 
in the mind. Now the observation is, that in this 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



379 



inquiry, it is the feeling or perception alone with which 
we have anything to do ; that we have nothing to do 
with the external action. The outward action is no- 
thing but the sign of the inward perception. It is, we 
repeat, with the perception only that we have anything 
to do, when inquiring after the real origin and essen- 
tial nature of virtue. If this distinction had been suf- 
ciently considered, it would have cut off, as we think, 
many a wearisome and wordy disquisition upon the 
grounds of morality. 

But to the definitions and grounds of morality. 
Aristotle's definition, that virtue is the mean between 
extremes, can scarcely be considered as rising to the 
dignity of a theory. It was a just maxim certainly, 
and implied, we may add, that the elementary princi- 
ples of rectitude lay in the human heart, though they 
were liable continually to fall into one or the other of 
the extremes of apathy and passion, of inaction or vio- 
lence. Zeno's rule of living according to nature, 
that is, the nature of the soul, implied of course, that 
there is a principle or perception of rectitude in the 
soul, which is the teacher of virtue. The doctrine of 
Epicurus, that happiness is the end of our being, and 
that all virtue lies in the pursuit of happiness, was 
connected by this philosopher with the admission, that, 
in order to obtain this happiness, one must live virtu- 
ously ; an admission that at once introduces a new 
element into his theory, an element fatal to his theory 
as a theory, but the very element we contend for, — 
that is to say, an independent perception of virtue. 
The fitness of things of Cudworth, Clarke, and Price 
taught, that " the right and wrong of actions are to be 
regarded as ranking amongst necessary or first truths, 
which are discerned by the mind independently of all 
reasoning and evidence." The speculations of those 



380 ON THE CALVINXSTIC VIEWS OF 



acute theologians, which threw a world of learned dust 
and scholastic mist over this first truth, still laid this 
truth in the heart of their system ; namely, that right 
and wrong are things self-evident, necessary, and im- 
mutable as the axioms of the Mathematics. The 
celebrated "theory of moral sentiments " by Adam 
Smith, the theory of moral sympathies that is to say, 
involved the same original and independent principle. 
" I do wrong-. I consider others as looking upon that 
wrong" action and condemning it. I sympathize with 
their disapprobation ; and thus I condemn myself. I 
do right ; and through a similar process I learn to 
approve myself. It is sympathy," says the theory, in 
both cases. But why do we feel so differently in the 
different cases ? Why does the right excite one kind 
of emotion, and the wrong another? Why did they, 
in the bosoms of the first men that experienced these 
emotions ? The theory does not tell us. And the 
only answer is, that it is the constitution of our nature 
that makes the difference. In the same manner do 
we think that there is involved in the Utilitarian theory 
a secret reason and ground of morals, which the Utili- 
tarian himself does not recognize. Why is an action 
right ? Because it tends to promote the general hap- 
piness. But why is it right to promote the general 
happiness? Is it because happiness is a good? Yes, 
it is a good ; but if bare tendency to promote this good, 
is the only thing to be considered, then a shower of 
rain must be a very virtuous thing. " No," it will be 
replied, " a being only can be virtuous. There must 
be an intent to do good ; a moral intent, — not an in- 
tellectual contriving of the matter only ; a love, — and 
not a love of happiness merely, our own, for instance, 
but a love of others' happiness." Here then, we think, 
is a secret truth embraced, but not recognized, in the 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



381 



Utilitarian's category. A world of beings may easily 
be conceived of, promoting each others' happiness in 
the highest degree, and yet having no such moral 
intent, not virtuous. The world of animals is such a 
world.* 

If we have succeeded in establishing the position, 
that the ideas of moral excellence are constitutional 
and belong essentially to human nature, we are pre- 
pared to advance another step in our survey of the 
ethics of Calvinism. For we maintain, that the idea 
of rectitude implies, in however small a degree, the 
feeling of rectitude. The Calvinist, indeed, admits 
that there is a conscience in all men, and we maintain 
that this admission is inconsistent with the alleged 

* We are not sure that the theory of utility is yet set forth and 
defended in a manner that is very satisfactory to its most intelligent 
defenders. We have supposed that the theory, as laid down in the 
books, contented itself with saying, that an action is right because it 
tends to promote happiness, and there left the subject without going 
back to the ulterior and ultimate ground of rectitude in the case. 
There it seems to us to be left by Paley and Bentham. They do 
not seem to have considered the question, why the feeling of bene- 
volence is right. If, however, the Utilitarian should say, that he 
assumes the feeling to be right, and only differs from us in analyz- 
ing and resolving all virtue into that feeling, we should have no 
quarrel with the principle of his philosophy, though we should 
doubt about his conclusion. Whether all rectitude can be analyzed 
into benevolence, we doubt But if the Utilitarian says, that a 
benevolent feeling is right because it tends to promote happiness, 
if he says that happiness is so excellent a thing that it confers upon 
its promoter, virtue, all the charm which invests it, we must dissent 
altogether. Benevolence makes me happy, makes others happy. 
Is that the reason why it is beautiful ? It would be, to sell virtue 
in the market-place ! Happiness is an excellent thing. But it is 
not half so excellent a thing as virtue. Yet this theory would make 
happiness the nobler thing, since it is offered as the very ground and 
reason, why the virtue that promotes it is excellent. We can ad- 
mire the merciful man, when he is merciful to his beast, when he 
takes care only for the happiness of animals ; but can animal happi- 
ness confer upon the quality of mercy all its beauty and worth ? 



382 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OP 



universal and total depravity of men. We expect 
that, in answer to this, it will be said, at once, that 
although all men have a conscience and approve of 
what is good, that is a very different thing from loving it. 

Undoubtedly it is a very different thing from loving 
it habitually, or with predominant affection. But the 
question is, whether the approbation of goodness does 
not imply the previous existence, not of a habit, but of 
a feeling of goodness. You behold a man doing a 
good action. Now, it is not the bare outward action 
that you admire, the stretching out of the hand, and 
that hand filled with gold ; but it is the generous feel- 
ing, the feeling of kindness or pity in the heart of the 
giver. And how could you know any thing of this 
feeling in his heart, unless you had experienced some- 
thing of it in your own heart ? We do not see how 
otherwise you could know it. The feeling is not 
visible. You do not with your bodily eyes see it. 
But you know that it is in your neighbour's heart, 
when he is sincerely doing a kind action ; and you 
know it from sympathy ; you know it because you 
feel with him, or have, at some former time, felt as he 
does. In short, you know nothing, and can know 
nothing, about any mental qualities and exercises, but 
by experience of them. And as you know what 
memory is only by remembering, or what reason is 
only by reasoning, so do you know what a virtuous or 
holy exercise in the mind is, only by feeling it. 

Conscience is not only a judgment, but it is a feel- 
ing. It is the same soul acting, with greater or less 
energy, upon moral objects. The difference between 
conscience (as that word is commonly used) and moral 
feeling, is a difference, not in kind but in degree. It 
may be a cold approbation ; it may be a warm emo- 
tion ; but still it is the same thing. We perceive the 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



383 



difference between right and wrong. We feel the 
difference between right and wrong. Here is the 
same thing. We feel this more or less strongly. Here 
is all the difference. When we witness a simple act 
of justice, as the paying of a debt, we simply approve it. 
When we witness an act of great, generous, and even 
self-denying benevolence, we warmly approve it. In 
both cases, it is, in its nature, the same action of the 
soul, put forth with greater or less energy. 

But, it may be said, are not conscience and feeling 
often directly opposed to each other? May not the 
conscience be right when the feeling is wrong? Is 
not this especially the case in envy ? A man approves, 
it will be said, the excellence that he hates ; his con- 
science perceives a virtue, to which his heart is opposed. 
Undoubtedly the feeling of conscience may be over- 
borne by other feelings ; but this does not prove it to 
be any the less a feeling, and, so far as it goes, a right 
feeling. There is no difficulty here. It is just as 
filial affection may be overborne by the love of worldly 
pleasure, or evil company. All we say, in this case, is, 
that the filial affection is the weaker feeling. And, if 
this feeling should strengthen and gain the predomin- 
ance, we should not say, that it was changed in its 
nature, but only, that it was increased in power. And 
so the weak conscience, when it becomes a strong 
principle, when it becomes the habitual love of God 
and good beings, is yet the same conscience increased 
in vigour. It has passed through a change, not of nature 
but of degree. It is the same single, solemn homage 
of human nature to what is right and good. 

And let me add, that the perception of moral recti- 
tude needs to be something thus simple, clear, and 
unquestionable. It must not be dependent on any 
abstruse reasoning. It must not depend on this or 



384 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 



that man's peculiar theory. It must not require that 
men should ascend into heaven, or go beyond the sea, 
to find it out. It must not leave any one cause to 
inquire anxiously, " wherewith he shall come before 
the Lord." It is too essential a matter, it is too vital 
an interest, to be the subject of any reasonable doubt 
as to tv hat it is. It must be like the light of the sun, 
shed clearly and brightly upon every human eye. 
That which is food to the soul, must be certain to the 
taste. That which is life to the soul, must be manifest 
to simple consciousness. That in which all safety, all 
good, all happiness essentially consists, must be self- 
evident, indisputable, universal truth ; truth without a 
shadow, without a question, without the possibility of 
a mistake. 

We should be glad if we had space, now to consider 
the bearing of this discussion upon several subjects : 
upon the identity of true morality and true religion ; 
upon the way of becoming good and religious, or what 
it is to become so ; upon the unreasonableness of intol- 
erance ; and upon the light in which the guidance of 
Scripture is to be regarded. But we must hope that 
the application to these topics, of what we have been 
saying, is sufficiently obvious ; and we will close our 
objections to Calvinism by asking one question. What 
sort of practical ethics would follow from this system ? 
What sort of position, theoretically speaking, would its 
votary occupy in life, in society, in the world ? 

Himself pure, while the multitude around him is 
totally depraved ; himself growing better while they 
are daily growing worse ; himself elected, sanctified, 
redeemed, while, for them, no electing mercy, no sanc- 
tifying spirit, no redeeming blood has yet interposed to 
bring them into the fold of safety ; himself hoping for 
heaven, while they, dying such as they live, are cer- 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



385 



tainly doomed to hell, nay, are every year and day, 
sinking by thousands, from the fair and smiling abodes 
of life, into everlasting burnings ; what manner of man 
ought he to be ? We do not ask what ideas of God 
must result from this view of the mass of mankind as 
a body of unreclaimed and almost irreclaimable con- 
victs, from this view of the earth as a vast penitentiary ; 
but we ask, what sort of person should he be, who 
dwells in such a penitentiary ? 

Certainly, he should be filled with inexpressible sad- 
ness. He may rejoice in his own escape ; but, for the 
thousands and millions, who never have escaped, and 
who never shall escape, he ought to feel a sadness, 
amounting to gloom and horror. If he lived in a city 
of a million of inhabitants, and knew that they were 
all, in one season, to be swept away by a pestilence ; 
that all were to die, excepting a remnant of a few hun- 
dreds with himself, could he, contemplating only that 
death and temporal desolation ; could he walk cheer- 
fully in the streets of that city ? But what is this to 
that doom, beneath which millions of the human race 
are, every year, sinking to woes and agonies, untold, 
unutterable, and never to end ! Can joy be any part 
of a system like this ? Can a man ever smile, Avho 
has taken this contemplation of things to his heart ? 
Can he see any real sign of cheerfulness in the heavens 
or the earth? Can the song of the neighbouring 
groves, can the shouts of laughter from yonder play- 
ground, or the swelling of gay and glad music upon 
the breeze, be any thing but the most bitter mockery ? 
What are all these, to the mass of mankind, but the 
prelude to groans, and lamentations, and wailings of 
sorrow ? The very arts, under such a system, should 
lose all their forms of winning beauty and imposing 
grandeur, all their buoyancv and brightness : and 
33 



386 



ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS OF 



sculpture should only present us groups, like the Lao- 
coon, writhing in the agony of fear; and painting 
should only draw pictures, dark and portentous, like 
that of the Deluge ; and poetry should only pour out, 
in sadder numbers than the celebrated " Night 
Thoughts," its tears and lamentations over the mourn- 
ful fate of human kind. Under the dread shadow of 
this system, then, what can remain to its consistent 
votary ? What can be his ties to society at large ? 
Can he have friendship ? Can he wish for intercourse 
with unregenerate men, bad men, utterly bad men ? 
Why should he ? What is there in them to love ? 
If he must be connected with them, by business or 
kindred, yet what are these circumstances, compared 
with the great features of moral relationship ? And 
the moral relationship on the part of the regenerate, 
can be nothing but that of superiority, and pity, and 
prayer ; not that of friendship. 

Can human nature, — can human life, — can human 
society, bear such a system as this ? Burthened in 
spirit, saddened with many afflictions, struggling with 
many difficulties, scarcely sustaining itself with all 
the aids of the most cheering faith, how must the hu- 
man heart sink under this universal cloud of darkness, 
horror and despair ! How could any liberal acquisi- 
tions, any graceful accomplishments, any joyous vir- 
tues, or generous confidences, spring up under such an 
appalling, all-absorbing dispensation of threatening, 
wrath and woe ? It has been said, we know, with an 
air of much self-complacency, that our anti-Calvinistic 
system, that Unitarianism, in other words, is essen- 
tially a shallow, superficial system even for the intel- 
lect ; that it is a system, altogether unfavourable to a 
generous and thorough improvement ; that genius en- 
compassed by that system, walks in fetters. But 



MORAL PHILOSOPHY. 



387 



what, we should like to ask, has Calvinism done, that 
its defenders should be entitled to adopt this tone of 
contempt for its adversaries ? We ask not, what Cal- 
vinists have done. For, allowing individuals among 
them all deserved credit for genius and accomplish- 
ments, it is very remarkable, that in the exertion of 
their powers in the chosen departments of genius, they 
have proved traitors to their system ! That is to say, 
the tone of religious thought and sentiment introduced 
into such works has never been that of Calvinism. 
We ask, then, Wliat has Calvinism done? What lit- 
erature has ever breathed its spirit, or ever will? What 
poem has it written — but Mr. Pollok's " Course of 
Time?" What philosophy — but Dr. Wardlaw's? Into 
what meditations of genius or reveries of imagination, 
but those of John Bunyan, has it ever breathed its 
soul ? 

We say not this reproachfully, but in self-defence. 
But we do say, that a system, which has never ap- 
peared in any recognized delineations of the true and 
beautiful ; which never comes into that department 
even with those who profess to hold it in theory ; which 
dwells not with men in their happy hours, by their 
firesides, and among their children ; which wears no 
form of beauty that ever art or imagination devised, 
but hangs, rather, as a dark and antiquated hatchment 
on the wall, the emblem of life passed away ; and we 
do say, too, that a system whose frowning features the 
world cannot and will not endure; whose theoretical 
inhumanity and inhospitably few of its advocates can 
ever learn ; whose tenets are not, as all tenets should 
be, better, but worse, a thousand times worse, than the 
men who embrace them ; whose principles falsify all 
history and all experience, and throw dishonour upon 
all earthly heroism and magnanimity ; whose teach- 



388 ON THE CALVINISTIC VIEWS, ETC. 

ings warrant no hopes, comfort nor afflictions, soothe 
no sorrows, but of an elected few ; and whose dread 
messages ought to make the sympathies of those few 
to be tortures and agonies to them, while they bind in 
chains the rest of mankind, and hold them reserved 
for blackness and darkness for ever ; we do say that 
such a system cannot be true ! It may be a sort of 
theory to be speculated about, to be coldly believed in, 
but it is not truth, that can be taken home to the heart. 
" Coldly believed in," — did we say. No ; so believed, 
it is not believed in at all. It is not believed, unless 
it is believed in horror and anguish ; unless it sends 
its votary to his nightly pillow in tears, and wakes 
him every morning to sorrow, and carries him through 
every day, burthened as with a world's calamity, and 
hurries him, worn out with apprehension and pity, to 
a premature grave ! He who should grow sleek and 
fat, and look fair and bright, in a prison, from which 
his companions were taken one by one, day by day, to 
the scaffold and the gibbet, could make a far, far better 
plea for himself, than a good man living and thriving 
in this dungeon- world, and believing that thousands 
and thousands of his fellow prisoners, are dropping 
daily into everlasting burnings. Once more then, we 
say, that this system cannot be proved to be true, till 
nature and life and consciousness are all proved to be 
false ; till the ties of affection are proved to be all 
snares, and its sympathies all sorrows ; till the tenor 
of life is proved to be a tissue of lies, and the benefi- 
cence of nature all mockery, and the dictates of hu- 
manity all dreams and delusions ! 



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